Spike Trek
by Son of Soul Reaver
Summary: 10 years after Nemesis, Captain Riker and the crew of the Enterprise E, on there way home from a failed peace mission with the Romulans, discover a derelict space craft from 21st century Earth in an uninhabited part of space. Chapter 21 up.
1. Echoes of the Past

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or concepts. All of the Buffy related characters and concepts are property of Mutant Enemy Productions and all of the Star Trek related characters and concepts are property of Viacom/Paramount. Any original characters are still part of the Star Trek universe and thus fall under intellectual property rights of Viacom/Paramount. This is a fan produced work and not meant to infringe on anyone's rights in any way. I'm a huge fan of both universes and I encourage everyone to please support the official releases.

AN: This is an idea that I have been kicking around for the quite a while. The eventual goal is to have a series of stories with each one including a new fandom. There will be NO explicit sexual content in any of these stories. I am doing my best to keep everyone in character. After all, I am only borrowing these characters and I would like to return them in the same condition I got them.

* * *

The ancient ship spun ominously on the view screen. The fuel had long since been spent, but the momentum had kept it moving through space for the last three hundred years. The sensors had read the composition of metals that made up the hull. After analyzing the information, the science officer had declared the craft's origin to be earth.

Captain Riker turned back toward the view screen. He considered the craft still floating, making its way through the universe. He couldn't believe that this vessel had traveled hundreds of light years in just a mere two centuries. Not only that, but the fact that it hadn't been destroyed by a commit or crash landed on some planet along the way seemed impossible.

He looked over his shoulder at his science officer. "Are you sure, Mr. Torik?"

The Vulcan looked again at his instruments. "Yes, Captain. Based on the materials used and the apparent age, not to mention design, I am certain that this craft was launched from Earth in the twenty first century."

Riker's years in Starfleet had made him wary. Too many things seemed out of place. This far from Earth, sitting in a relatively empty part of space, away from the eyes and the ears of most of the universe, this ship seemed a little too much like food under a box. If they grabbed for it, someone might pull the stick out from under it.

"Captian," it was the first officer, "What're you thinking?"

Riker turned to the Klingon, "Worf, do you remember about twenty years ago, we found something like this near the Neutral Zone?"

"I do remember," Worf typed in a few commands at his control panel, "It was star date four one nine eight six point zero. Do you think this could be the same thing, another vessel designed to keep people cryogenicly frozen?"

"I don't know," Riker said, folding his arms, "But I'd like to take a look."

* * *

The lingering sound of the transporter faded away as Commander Worf and Lieutenant Torik looked around the cramped interior of the ship. The air was breathable, but tasted stale. Torik pulled out his tricorder and took preliminary scans of the area. The entire interior seemed to be dedicated to whatever it was in the center of the room. A large, metal tube about six meters around, took up most of the room. There seemed to be a door on the front, but it had a manual interface. A small wheel was mounted on the exact center of the door.

"It appears to be made of titanium," Torik said, "It is half a meter thick."

Worf visually scanned the tube, trying to discern it's purpose. "Are there any life signs?"

"There is something, though I cannot tell what. It is some kind of energy reading, similar to a life form, but not like one I've ever seen."

"Some kind of alien?" Worf suggested "Something we haven't encountered before?"

"Unlikely," Torik answered immediately, "This craft was launched from Earth two hundred years ago. It is doubtful that there is a species that Humans encountered before they had warp drive that we wouldn't know about."

Worf put his hands on the wheel and turned it. The ancient metal squealed in protest, but gave way to Worf's Klingon strength. The mechanism ground into place and the door swung open. The inside had no lights. As Worf stepped aside, Torik aimed his tricorder at the doorway. New readings appeared on the screen. The temperature read at one degree below zero, likely caused by the nitrogen gas pouring down from the vents in the ceiling. The gas made it impossible breath in the room. Worf turned on his flashlight, took a deep breath, filling all three of his lungs, and stepped into the room.

Inside was bare save for a table in the center. Worf aimed his light at the top of the table. Strapped to it, completely naked, was what appeared to be a human male with platinum blond hair.


	2. Awakening

The Doctor had run scan after scan using every instrument and every calibration of every instrument he could think of, but they all told him the same thing; Nothing. This person was clearly human and gave off an energy signature similar to that of a human's bio-electric field. But the difference was enough that the scanners issued a response of "species unknown". He had told the captain this, but as is the way with captains, it wasn't enough.

"Are you sure, Doctor?" Riker asked.

"No Captian," The Doctor said, "That's my point. I have tried everything I know and a few things I just thought of, but I'm afraid that I have no more information than what Mr. Torik gathered with his tricorder. He appears to be human, and very much dead. But he gives off a bio-electric field as though he were alive, but it's not registering as human on any of the scanners."

"Alright Doctor, keep me informed." Riker turned and walked out of Sickbay.

The Doctor turned back to his patient. "Alright my friend, lets see if we can't learn any more about you."

He picked up a tool from his tray and walked back to the bio-bed. Before he could use it however, the door slid open and and a bleeding Ensign Donaldson walked in. He held a cloth over his hand, but blood had already soaked through. The Doctor could tell the cut was bad before see it. He rushed over, grabbing the dermal re-generator as he passed the tray.

"Donaldson, what happened this time?" He chided.

The fresh faced ensign looked embarrassed, but it faded in favor of pale nausea.

* * *

The darkness was oppressive, smothering him like the heaviest of blankets. But it did more than that. It invaded him, saturated him, covering everything about him. Even his soul felt mired in the oblivion.

Suddenly, a light in the darkness. Something familiar, something corporal, something real. The sensation burned away the darkness in a flash of brilliance. His consciousness began to claw its way up from the dark void, trying desperately to make it to the surface.

* * *

The Doctor ran the dermal re-generator over Donaldson's in a slow back and fourth motion, causing the cut to knit together. The whole time he did, he hummed La donne e mobile, one of his favorite pieces. An alarm pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked over at bed four to saw the energy levels emanating from his corpse patient were rising.

"Nurse!" he called.

One of the ship's three duty nurses, Lieutenant Kwon, ran into the room. The Doctor handed her the re-generator.

"Finish up here, I'm going to have a look at our other patient."

He grabbed a medical tricorder on his way to the bed. He immediately began scanning the patient and just as immediately, his readings didn't make any sense. The energy levels were rising, but his body temperature stayed at 22 degrees. His heart didn't beat and his blood didn't pump. Brain activity began to increase.

"What are you?"

* * *

His awareness finally broke the surface. He opened his eyes, but after so long in the darkness, he didn't know how to see any more. One thought kept pushing him, one thing that he needed, one thing that he must have. It took him forever to remember how to make his mouth and voice work, and even longer to remember the word. Finally, after what felt like and eternity, he said it.

"Blood. I need blood."


	3. Earth Bound

Riker sat in the captain's chair on the bridge. The view screen was off, not that there was anything to look at. In a delta slip stream, one couldn't even see the stars passing by. Riker sat simply staring.

He wasn't looking forward to returning to Earth. There were going to be some tough questions, and he was going to have to answer for his actions. He knew when he made the decision Starfleet Command would call him in for questioning, but it didn't matter. Her life was at stake and he needed to do _something._

"Doctor to Captain Riker," his communicator beeped.

He touched the badge on his chest, "Go ahead Doctor."

"Our patient is awake," The Doctor announced.

"I thought you said he was dead," Riker said, confused.

"What I told you, Captain," The Doctor replied, clearly irritated, "was that I don't know what he is. But I do know that right now, he is awake. I also have some other more…disturbing information."

Riker stood. "Hold on Doctor, I'm on my way," he said, walking to the turbo lift. He touched the badge on his chest, closing the channel.

* * *

The sickbay doors slid open and Riker strode purposefully in. He looked to bio-bed four to see the 'dead' man sitting up in bed.

"Hello mate," he said, "You must be tippy-top 'round here. Can you see bout getting' me my clothes back. The jacket I had was especially close to my heart."

He spoke in a definite English accent. He looked very well considering that, only this morning, they found him strapped to a bed.

"Captain," The Doctor called from in his office.

Riker walked past the threshold of what was officially considered the Doctor's office. The Doctor was sitting at his desk looking at a display on his desk monitor.

"How's our patient, Doctor?" He asked.

"I'm not sure," he said, finally looking up, "He seems to be okay, but still dead."

"Dead?" Riker's brow furrowed, "How can he be dead and okay."

The Doctor leaned back in his chair and indicated the dead man through the window.

"As you can see, he's up and speaking. But his heart isn't beating. He has brain activity, but his body temperature is still the same as the room. Some of my instruments tell me he is deceased, others tell me he's as healthy as a horse."

"Do you have any theories?"

"I have one," he said, turning the monitor, "but you're not going to like it."

Riker looked at the monitor, and then looked incredulously at the Doctor.

"You think he's a vampire?"

"I could have told you blokes that if you'd have asked," the patient called from the other room.

* * *

"Why don't we start with your name?" Riker asked.

He, Worf, and the Doctor all stood around bio-bed 4.

"Because I don't want to start with my name. Why don't we start with yours?"

Riker let out a frustrated breath. "Fine, my name William T. Riker. I'm the captain. This is my first officer, Commander Worf, and this is the Doctor."

The patient shrugged, "Right, well I'm Spike. Nice to me meet you, Captain William T. Riker. Now, where the bloody hell am I?"

The Doctor put a hand to Spike's shoulder, "Please try to remain calm. You're safe here. This is the Starship Enterprise. We found you…"

"Hang on," Spike interrupted, "Did you say 'Starship'?"

Riker was about to answer when the com beeped.

"Lieutenant Torik to Captain Riker."

Riker touched the badge on his chest, "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

"Sir, just wanted to inform you that we've reached the Terren System. We'll be approaching Earth shortly."


	4. Getting to Know You

AN: I'm sorry this has taken me so long. I promise the next chapter will be here quicker and will be longer.

* * *

_Well this is a proper mess, isn't it? _Spike thought to himself as the human and the demon walked out of the room. He couldn't believe he had agreed to this stupid idea. _Witches, _he thought bitterly, _Always think they know all angles._ The Doctor's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Tell me, Spike was it?" he said, hovering a blinking red light uncomfortably close to his face, "How are we feeling?"

Spike swatted his hand away, "I don't know about you, mate, but still feel terrible. Any chance I could get some more blood?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Spike said, louder then he'd intended, "I'm a vampire! I need the ruby red to keep walkin' and talkin'."

The Doctor leaned over slightly, as though speaking to a child.

"If you will let me finish my scans and answer my questions, then I will get you some more blood. Deal?"

Spike shrugged, "Right then, get on with it."

The Doctor smiled, "Thank you."

His hand began to wave back and forth over Spike's head again.

"I didn't catch your name." Spike said, trying to ignore the blinking light.

"That's because I don't have one," he answered.

Spike scoffed, "No name? What do I call you then?"

"Just call me the Doctor." He said in a weary voice, "Now tell me Spike, where are you from?"

Spike shrugged, "I was born in London, England-"

"So you are from Earth, then?" The Doctor interrupted.

"Yeah I'm from Earth," Spike scoffed "What'd you think; I'm some kind of alien?" He held up his hands, wiggling his fingers and making 'wooo' sounds.

The Doctor huffed, "If you must know, it was a possibility I had considered."

He pulled the annoying red light away from Spike's face. He arched an eyebrow as he looked at his little machine, a little "huh" escaping his lips. Spike's temper flared. He hated it when people had withheld information about him.

"What 'huh'? What's that thing say?"

"It says that you have normal brain activity," he answered, "but no pulse, your body temperature is the same as the ambient temperature, and it doesn't look like you need to breath."

Spike shrugged, "Oh, well. That could be because I'm a VAMPIRE! Speaking of vampires, we have a rather specific diet. Namely, we need blood!"

The Doctor closed his machine with another huff and walked over some other machine mounted on the far wall.

"Any preference on type?" the Doctor asked sarcastically.

_I'm about to let that slide,_ Spike thought. "Yeah, O negitive. If you got it."

The Doctor looked over his shoulder with disgust. Then he turned back to the machine and punched in a few more commands. The machine hummed and glowed. A small silver bag appeared in the glow. The light dimmed and the machine stopped humming. The Doctor poured the contents of the bag, thick red blood, into a cup and brought it to Spike. Spike grabbed it and drank greedily. It tasted wonderful, but there was something off about it. It tasted like blood, but it had a slightly sterile quality to it.

When it was gone, Spike looked at the empty cup and for the first time wondered where the blood was coming from. It was clearly magic of some kind. But he had never seen that kind of magic before. He would have killed for that lesbian witch that Buffy hung around to know that spell. Human blood without the guilt of a dead body? That is the Holy Grail for an ensouled vampire.

"What kind of magic is this?" he finally asked.

"It's not magic," the Doctor said proudly, standing a little straighter, "It's actually a device of my own design. It's a medical replicator. It can create various items and tools I use here in sickbay. What makes it unique is that it can create living biological material. The blood you're drinking for example. You couldn't get any fresher if you too it directly out of a human. By having cloned, living biological material available on demand, we've been able to save countless lives in the field."

Spike raised his eyebrows, then his glass, "Well, good on you, mate. It makes a pretty good cup of blood too."

"Thank you," The Doctor said, "I think."

"If you're so bloody smart," Spike asked, "Why don't you have a name?"

"I never chose one," He answered, "I thought about it, but I think everyone is used to calling me Doctor."

"That's a weak excuse," Spike chuckled, "I chose my name. And now it strikes fear into the hearts of the wicked. Or at least it used to."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "You _chose_ 'Spike'?"

Spike shrugged, "I didn't come right out and say 'Hey mates, my name is Spike now'. I worked hard a reputation that would make people afraid of me. I used railroad spikes to carve out that reputation."

"Well Spike," The Doctor asked, "Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"Okay, well I was born is 1851. My given name is William Pratt."

* * *

The Enterprise had established orbit over Earth. Captain Riker and Commander Worf stood in Transporter Room Two, awaiting a very special guest. Ensign Jacobs touched the controls on the panel and the pad glowed. A form coalesced in the center of the pad. After a second, the familiar bald head and scowling face of Admiral Picard fully solidified on the pad.

"This is one hell of a mess you've gotten yourself into, Number One."

"It's good to see you too, Sir," Riker answered.


	5. What Happened Out There?

Admiral Picard, Captain Riker, and Commander Worf walked into the conference room. Riker and Worf moved to the seats nearest the head on either side of the narrow conference table, leaving the chair at the head of the table, the one usually reserved for the captain, open for Picard. The Admiral briefly considered taking the chair next to Worf across from Riker, but thought better of it. As he sat, a feeling of nostalgia washed over him, causing him to involuntarily smile.

"Sir?" Riker asked

Picard looked to Riker, the man who had been his right hand for almost two decades.

"Just remembering the good old days, Number One. We've been so caught up in all of this governmental nonsense lately. I haven't even left the system since … I don't remember when. I just feels good to be on a starship again."

He left unsaid that it felt even better to have at least part of his old crew back.

"Now, down to business. Tell me what happened in the Neutral Zone."

"You know that we were ordered to escort the Davenport there to investigate the strange energy signatures. We made it to the border without incident …"

* * *

"Begin long range scans. Tell me when we've made contact with the Romulans," Riker ordered from his chair.

The crew went about their tasks, quietly assessing scan data or checking ship systems. Tension hung in the air like a thick fog. Riker looked at each bridge crew member in turn. They all knew the importance of the mission ahead. It wasn't just about the strange energy signature they had found. They would be working with the Romulans on a scale like never before. That fact made everyone more than just a little nervous.

Riker tapped his badge, "Enterprise to Davenport."

"Davenport here," It was the commanding officer, Capitan Benjamin.

"We've begun scanning for the Romulan vessel. As soon as we make contact, we'll begin working on timing and logistics."

"Copy that, Enterprise. We'll be standing by." Riker could hear the tightness in his voice. The man was nervous as hell, and he had every right to be. James Benjamin was a new and fairly young captain. The Davenport was his first ship, and this was not going to be a walk in the park. Riker wondered why they Starfleet had chosen him over some of their more experienced officers. He guessed that must be his purpose in this mission.

"Sir," It was Lieutenant-Commander Rajda-Meps, the Ops officer, "I see the Warbird."

"Thank you, Ensign," Riker said. He smirked at Rajda's unique way of speaking. She almost never spoke with any formality. She was a rather pretty Trill, with red hair tied in a pony tail and green eyes. In his younger days, Riker would have certainly pursued her, probably fruitlessly. All the better though. He knew now that he had always been destined to be with Deana. Only she truly knew him, the only one who ever could.

"Open a channel," He said standing, "And wish me luck, Meps."

"Good luck, Sir."

"Thank you, Meps."

The bridge of a Romulen ship appeared on the view screen. The captain, an older Romulan with salt and pepper grey hair cut in the traditional widow's peak hair style, sat in the chair in the center of the of the bridge. There was something immediately unsettling about him. His eyes seemed to be watching for a weakness, any weakness, which he could exploit. The eyes of a terran shark. There seemed to be no emotion behind them, just cold calculation.

"This is Captain Khaiel Donatra of the Warbird Kothre," He said with a great deal of formality.

Riker almost smirked at the stiffness in his voice. _Romulans and their obsession with tradition_, he thought. Then again, there was a Klingon sitting right behind him who valued tradition just as much, so maybe it wasn't so strange.

"Hello Captain. I am William T. Riker, Captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Is your science vessel ready to depart?"

Donatra shook his head, "This is the science vessel. We have the personal and equipment necessary for this mission on board."

Riker raised an eyebrow, "You do realize that leaves you at a disadvantage."

The Romulan smiled. Riker was mildly surprised his face didn't crack.

"We trust you, Enterprise. Especially you, Captain Riker." The way he said it made the hair on Riker's neck stand on end. He kept the worry off of his face and instead returned the smile.

"I'm glad to hear it. If you would send us coordinates for a rendezvous, we can get this mission underway."

Donatra wave his hand and a young Romulan in the background touched his control panel. Almost immediately, a small chime on the helm control panel indicated incoming information. Lieutenant Tenpenny, the helmsman, touched a control and read the information. He dropped his hand below the control panel and gave a quick gesture, a signal indicating trouble. Riker caught the motion out of the corner of his eye, but Donatra answered his concern before he asked.

"The coordinates are a little closer to our side of the boarder. There is a nebula there that we can scan from without exposing ourselves to needless risk. We should arrive a little before you. I hope that isn't a problem."

It took only a second for Riker to decide he didn't like this. It took only a second longer to decide he didn't have any choice. Perhaps this was a good sign. Perhaps they had only brought one ship in order to compensate for being closer to their side of the boarder. The thought that brought him around was that the Romulans needed this to work as much as the Federation did. No one could handle a war right now, and if the Romulans attacked, that is what it would be.

"No problem, Captain," He finally said, "We'll relay the coordinates to the Davenport and we'll both be on the way."

Donatra smiled again. It was a decidedly unsettling look. "Excellent Captain. We'll see you there."

The view screen went blank.

"Hail the Davenport," Riker said.

The view screen lit up, this time the image of a human popped up. He was standing on his bridge which, Riker noted, was significantly smaller than his own.

Captain James Benjamin wasn't a tall man. He stood a mere 1.7 meters tall and only weighed about 65 kilograms. He had an intensity to his face that made him look angry even if he wasn't. He wore a goatee beard and mustache, but the rest of his patchy beard looked as though it had had a day or so head start on a razor.

"Did you catch all that, Captain?" Riker asked.

"Yes Riker, I did. I don't like it."

"Neither do I, but we don't have a choice. Besides, the Romulans want war less than us."

Benjamin shook his head, "Maybe, Riker. But that is one creepy bastard."

Riker and a few others chuckled at that. The tension broke and Riker felt a little weight lift from hi shoulders. Benjamin smiled also. It did a lot to soften the features of his face.

"Is your crew ready?" Riker asked.

"As we'll ever be."

* * *

"And so you crossed into the Neutral Zone?" Picard asked

Riker nodded, "We made it to the nebula without incident-"

The door leading to the hall abruptly opened and a man, wearing nothing but pajama pants and a mask of fury, stormed into the room. He took only a second to find his target. Riker stood, not seeming to share Picard's confusion. Before anyone could speak, the man launched a fist at Riker's face, hitting him square in the temple. He stumbled, but didn't go down.

"You son of a BITCH!" the man screamed.

Worf leapt over the table and landed between Riker and the belligerent man. With a hand on the man's chest and a forearm against his throat, Worf forced him to the wall and pinned him there.

Picard, feeling a bit old for not being able to leap to his feet, stood and faced the crazed man.

Before he could demand what the hell was going on, Riker raised an introductory hand to the man.

"Admiral Picard, I'd like you to meet Captain James Benjamin."

Now Picard was even more confused. Worf, apparently sure he wasn't going to launch another attack, released Benjamin. Benjamin looked from Worf, to Riker, then to Picard.

"Admiral Picard?"

Picard nodded.

He spoke to Picard, but looked a Riker, "I wish to lodge a formal complaint against Captain William T. Riker. He is responsible for the death of thirty of my crew members. I want him removed from duty and placed under arrest."

Picard looked at Riker, growing more confused by the second.

"Will?" he asked?

"I hadn't quite got to that part of the report, Admiral."


	6. Tempers Flare and Tears Are Shed

The three men stood in silence for a moment. Picard seemed to be completely caught off guard. Riker's first officer, Worf, kept his intimidating glare on Benjamin. Riker, for his part, at least had the decency to look embarrassed. _Embarrassed,_ Benjamin thought, _That bastard ought to be ashamed. His choice cost the lives of thirty good men and women!_

Picard spoke first, "Why don't we all calm down. Captain Benjamin, you've clearly been through an incredible ordeal," Picard put his hand on the young captain's shoulder, "Why don't you go down to Sickbay and have the Doctor give you something to help relieve some tension."

_Perfect, _Benjamin thought, _Of course the famed Jean-Luc Picard is going to defend his former first officer._ He brushed Picard's hand away. "I don't want to go see the Doctor," he growled, "I want Riker arrested!" Benjamin realized a little too late that he must have sounded like a petulant child.

Picard straightened, seeming to grow by meters. He glared down at the shorter man with all of the authority due to a man of his rank and experience. "Captain Benjamin, you are a member of Starfleet addressing a superior officer."

Benjamin snapped to attention, inwardly groaning at how his temper had just cost him credibility, again.

"Yes sir."

Picard returned to his chair, tugging at his uniform jacket as he did. "Now, I am currently hearing Captain Riker's report. As soon as I am finished, I will need the same from you. As you seem to be up and around, I expect you and your first officer to be in uniform and in this conference room at sixteen hundred hours, sharp."

"Yes sir," Benjamin said, still staring straight ahead.

"Dismissed," Picard barked.

Benjamin turned on his heel and strode from the room, silently cursing himself the whole way.

* * *

Picard looked to Riker, silently questioning him with the look on his face. Riker huffed, but before he could move back to his chair, his badge beeped.

"Doctor to Captain Riker."

Riker touched his badge, "Riker here."

"Captain, our unique patient is requesting his personal effects. He's getting insistent sir."

"Alright Doctor, Parsons should be done scanning everything. Tell him to bring it all to Sickbay."

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Captain."

The channel closed. Apparently the Doctor was having quite a time with the not-so-dead man.

"Unique patient?" Picard asked.

"Yes sir," Worf said, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room. "Do you remember when we found that earth vessel with the cryogenically frozen humans inside it?"

Picard thought for a moment, then nodded that he did. Worf filled him in on the vessel they had found with the frozen vampire inside.

"Vampire?" Picard looked incredulous.

Riker shrugged, "I know it sounds strange, sir."

"We're in Starfleet, Will," Picard smiled, "Strange is part of the job. Still, I think I should meet this man."

* * *

Spike had dressed, wearing his black jeans, black t-shirt, his long sleeve, red button up, and most importantly, his black, leather trench coat. He grabbed the lapels and straightened it a half dozen times. It wasn't uncomfortable, but a small part of him seemed to be aware of his time in space, and so he felt like he should have to get used to clothes again. Despite that feeling, the weight of his coat was still familiar and comforting.

The Doctor stood next to him, looking over the odd assortment of items in the trunk sitting open on the bed. The trunk mostly had books in it along with a few other items. The thing that caught Spike's attention was a bastard sword lying cross ways on top of everything else. It had a simple, straight cross guard and leather wrapped grip. The Doctor noticed a note wrapped around the hilt and reached for it.

"What's this," he asked, unfolding the paper.

Spike shrugged, "Don't know. I don't recognize most of this crap. What the bloody hell would I want from a bunch of musty old books?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "I figured you would at least want the sword."

"Not really me," Spike answered, lifting the sword and examining it, "I've always preferred a good old fashioned fist to flesh tussle. Nothing like a spot of violence before bed time."

"Some one else seems to think so too," The Doctor said, "I don't the sword is for you."

He handed the paper to Spike. It had a short poem written in neat, tiny script.

_You must have this sword _

_If you hope to win _

_Give it to the one _

_Who is more than man_

"'More than a man'," Spike quoted, "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"Not sure," the Doctor said, squinting at the poem.

At that moment, the door slid open and three men walked in. Spike recognized two of them as the captain and his demon first officer. The third man was older and bald. He wore a more ornate uniform and walked with the bearing of a man used to wearing the authority of rank. Spike could see by the way that the other two fell in step behind him that they were used to taking orders from this man.

Spike crumpled the note and dropped it into his pocket. The older man walked up to Spike, studying him with a critical eye, as though trying to see what kind of man he was. Spike got the impression that this man was going to test him and that Spike needed to pass his tests.

"You are Spike?" The man asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Spike answered

The man held out his hand, "I am Admiral Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets."

Spike looked at the hand. Deciding that this was one of the tests he had sensed was coming, he shook the man's hand. Picard gave a genuine smile, and Spike got the impression that it was a rare thing indeed.

"Guess I was wrong 'bout you, Mate," Spike said, releasing Picard's hand and looking to Riker, "Looks like you're not exactly king of the hill, are you?"

Riker smiled, "No, not when he's on board."

Spike hadn't expected to get quite such an amiable response. The three men moved around the bed to look at the contents of the trunk.

"What are all of these books?" Picard asked.

"You have a sword," Worf stated, admiring the blade.

"What's with the crystals?" Riker wondered.

"Hey, hey!" Spike said, holding up his hands, "One question at a time, blokes."

The Doctor stepped in, "Can you explain these items, Spike?"

"I don't know. Most of it looks like stuff that Willow had, magick doodads and the like. Hang on," Spike reached into the trunk and pull out a clear plastic case with a disc inside. The neat handwriting in black ink declared simply, 'For Spike'. A blond lock of hair tied with a small ribbon sat crushed in the between the case and the disc.

The four other men stared at the disc, but it was the Doctor who finally spoke.

"What is it, Spike?"

"I think it's a DVD," Spike answered, still staring at the letters spelling his name. The way the bottom of the 'S' in his name looped back on itself. The 'K' made up of a line and a sideways 'V' that didn't quite touch. It was _her_ handwriting. She had written his name on this disc. Which meant the hair was hers

Spike opened the case and lifted the disc to his nose, drawing in the scent. It was faint, but it was definitely there, tickling right on the edges of his awareness. The simple ecstasy of that sensation brought unfulfilled need blossoming to the surface for the first time since he had awoken. Nothing else mattered, nothing else even existed. The faint traces of her had pushed every other sense out of his mind as unimportant. He touched the hair that was still impossibly soft. The need burned even stronger within him. The bitter sweet pain ran throughout his entire body, threatening to force his dead heart from his chest. Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden, trickling down his cheeks.

A hand on his shoulder brought the world back in a blinding rush. Suddenly realizing that the others were staring at him, he closed the case with a_ snap_. He looked around at the expressions on the faces of the other men. Picard seemed interested, Riker seemed suspicious, the Doctor seemed concerned, and Worf seemed…very Worf like. Spike wiped his eyes as discreetly as possible, which wasn't very.

"I don't suppose you blokes have a DVD player somewhere private where I could watch this."

Riker's brow furrowed, "I think we all should see what's on that DVD."

Spike's eyebrows went up, "Yeah, well I think you should sod off!"

Worf put a finger to Spike's chest, "You are addressing the captain of this ship."

Spike knocked his hand away, "Oh, I'm sorry. Sod off, Sir! I don't care if he's the bloody king of Siam, this is personal property."

Riker stood straighter, "As captain of this ship I have the duty confiscate anything I deem dangerous or necessary-"

"Now Captain," the Doctor implored.

"ENOUGH!" Picard hadn't actually yelled, but the clear ring of authority in his voice brought quiet to the room. Even Spike felt compelled to obey when this man commanded it. Everyone turned eyes to Picard, waiting for his next command.

"Number One, if a member of your crew were to watch the video and assure you that it has no bearing on the safety of your ship or the federation, will you allow him to view it privately?"

Riker nodded, "Yes sir."

"Doctor, you can selectively delete your memory files, correct?"

"Yes sir," the Doctor said, "It'll take some work, but I can do it."

"Mr. Spike, with that knowledge, would you permit the Doctor to view this video with you?"

Spike thought it over for a moment. The only person who had been totally honest with him and had not jumped to conclusions about him (at least not any incorrect ones) was the holographic doctor. If he really could delete his memory of watching the video, it would still be Spike's alone.

Finally, Spike nodded, "Yeah, alright. But no one else."

* * *

The Doctor stood next to Spike, who sat at the Doctors desk watching the monitor. It had only taken Lieutenant Commander Parsons, the Chief Engineer, a few minutes to program the computer to read the ancient data storage disc. He had instructed Spike on how to play the video, but his finger had hovered above the button for a full ten minutes after Parsons had walked out.

Growing more concerned, the Doctor finally asked, "Is there something wrong?"

Spike's hand moved away from the button and rested on the desk. He sat unmoving for another minute before answering, "This just feels like, I don't, a last message or something. Like one last goodbye. If I play it, it'll be like admitting that it's over, that she's really gone. I don't know if I could do that."

The Doctor placed a hand on the other's shoulder, leaning over to be closer, "Spike, your going to have to see it sometime. Whoever she was, it's obvious that you love her very much. You need that closure. Besides, she obviously cared enough to make this for you. Clearly she meant for it to help you with the difficult transition you're about to go through. Do you really want the effort she put into this to be for nothing."

Exhaling, Spike moved his hand and touched the control. The screen flickered to life and a large white arrow appeared against a blue background. The arrow disappeared and screen changed to the face of a young blond man. He sat in a chair and smiled uncertainly.

"Um, hi Spike. It's Andrew, but I guess you knew that. Willow told us what you did, or what you will do, or something. So, anyway, I thought I'd record this for you, so that everyone can say their goodbyes. I don't know if they'll even have DVD players when you wake up. I hope so."

The young man, Andrew, reached for the screen and the image shook. The screen went black for an instant and then two people were on screen. One was a dark haired man with a patch over one eye. The other was slightly younger woman with straight brown hair. They were holding hands. Spike's jaw dropped.

"That bloody wanker!" he exclaimed, "How did those two end up together? How has she not killed him yet?"

The Doctor wanted to ask who they were, but decided that he should probably allow this moment to be as private as possible.

"Hey Spike," the woman said, "It's Dawn and Xander. Willow told us all about how you're gonna help save the world again. We just wanted to thank you. Thank you Spike, for everything. You were a real friend to me and my sister when we really needed one. I know it went against your nature. I want you to know that I'll always remember you for that."

"Look Spike," the man said, speaking for the first time, "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye. By that I mean 'I hate your guts'."

"Xander!" the woman chided.

"Hey, it's the truth. But what I was going say is that I may not like you Spike, but you went against your nature, against being a soulless monster, and became a better man, and I can really respect that. Good luck, Spike."

"At least he's not a total loss," Spike mumbled.

"Oh, and about this," Xander said, raising the hand holding Dawn's, "Not that it's any of your business, but Dawn thinks you have a right to know. We've been together for a little while now and frankly, we're happy."

"I hope you get to find happiness one day." Dawn said, smiling, "I really think you've earned it."

The screen now showed two young women, one with red hair and the other a brunette.

"Hi Spike," the redhead said, smiling and waving enthusiastically, "It's me, Willow. And you remember Kennedy?" She indicated the girl next to her, who just smiled. "Hey I know that I was there for the ritual, but there wasn't really time to say goodbye. I'll miss you, Spike. Good luck."

"And thank you Spike, for everything," Kennedy said.

The scene changed again and a woman in her late twenties appeared. She was quite attractive, with blond hair and bright eyes. Spike's demeanor had completely changed. Where before he was relaxed and moved like a predator, now he sat taught as piano wire. It looked as though someone had stuck an electrode in his back and left it there.

The young woman motioned to someone behind the screen, "Go ahead and leave it there, Andrew."

"You sure, Buffy?" Andrews voice cam from off screen, "I could frame you better."

Buffy smiled indulgently, "I'm sure, Andrew. Please just leave it there."

"Okay, just press this button when you're done and-"

"I know how to work a camera," she interrupted, "Now please just go."

Andrew's footsteps faded away followed by the sound of a closing door. Buffy sat crossed legged on a bed leaning over a pillow on her lap in what must have her room. She stared at her hands, playing with a ring on one of her fingers.

"Hi Spike," She said, still not looking up, "I wanted to say that I miss you and wish you luck."

She looked at the camera and seemed unable to find any more words. Her eyes began to water and she looked up, away from the camera.

"So stupid," she said, trying to blink away the tears.

She stared away from the camera, breathing hard. Even through the screen, the Doctor could see the tears streaming down her face. She drew in a shaking breath, and then began to cry in earnest. Burying her face in her pillow, her racking sobs were muffled, but even the Doctor could clearly hear them. He glanced at Spike to see tears streaming down his face. The vampire made no attempt to wipe them away.

"Oh God! Spike I miss you so much." She screamed into the pillow.

Spike moved suddenly, startling the Doctor. He put his hands to the screen, trying desperately to touch her through it.

"I know, baby," He said through his own tears, "I'm here. I'm here."

Buffy finally seemed to regain her composure. The Doctor put a hand to Spike's shoulder to pull him back into the chair. Spike sat back without resisting. Buffy was wiping the tears away.

"I'm sorry," She said, "I do miss you, Spike. I know you know that I don't love you in they way that you want, but I do love you. With all my heart, I love you and want you back. You got your soul back, for me. Willow said you had to go fulfill some prophecy thing in the future. And I love you even more for being willing to do that. I never really had the chance to say goodbye though. I just hope that, that you don't forget me. Don't get me wrong, I want you to find love, real, warm-and-fuzzy-googly-eyed love. But I also want you to look back on us with fond memories. I know it wasn't all great, but I thought some of it was, especially that snuggly last part. If I could spend every night wrapped in your arms, I would. I've never felt so safe, not even in Angel's arms. Please Spike, when you look back on us, remember that."

"Always, Pet," Spike said breathlessly, "Always."

"I love you, Spike."

"I love you, Buffy," Spike said, pressing his lips against the screen. While Spike's eyes were still closed, Buffy got up and reached off screen. The scene changed and suddenly Andrew's face was taking the whole frame.

"There you have it Spike," Andrew said.

Spike jumped back with a cry of indignation.

"We all love and miss you," Andrew continued, "I hope you find whatever it is you're supposed to do. I don't agree with Willow that denying our present a bad ass vampire for the sake of the future is a good idea, but I'm not the uber-powerful witch. So, anyway, good luck Spike."

The screen went black.

Spike flopped back into the chair and breathed deep, exhaling with a huff. He looked up to the Doctor. "There you have it, mate. Nothing of any importance to anyone but me. You gonna tell your almighty captain as much?"

"Of course," The Doctor answered. He walked over to another control panel on the opposite wall of his office and began accessing his memory banks.

"What're you doing?" Spike asked him from across the room.

"Accessing my memory banks to erase my memory of watching the video with you," he answered.

"You don't have to," the vampire said, "I'd like it if someone, ya know, remembered this."

The Doctor realized that what Spike needed, more than anything else, was a friend. He was asking for just that.

"Spike, it would be an honor."

Spike smiled, "Thanks Doc."


	7. What Happened Out There?: Part 2

Picard and Riker sat at a table in the corner of the ship board bar. It was on deck ten at the front of the ship, just like previous incarnations of the Enterprise. The crew, however, preferred to call the bar "Vogan's" after the Bajorian bartender who ran it. The man was a good listener, always willing to lend an ear to anyone who needed to talk. Some of the crew joked that if the enemy ever wanted information about the ship, they should skip the intelligence officers and go straight for Vogan. Riker was drinking a synthale, while Picard sipped his usual Earl Grey.

"That was quite a serious claim that Captain Benjamin made," Picard said between sips, "You're already in hot water with Starfleet Command. This could bury you."

"That's not the half of it, Sir," Riker responded seriously.

Picard sat studying Riker for a moment. He sipped his tea and finally asked, "What happened, Will?"

Riker took a long drink, then a deep breath. "I told you that we made it to the nebula without incident…"

* * *

After scanning for any anomalous readings, the U.S.S. Davenport and the U.S.S. Enterprise both entered the nebula, the Enterprise leading the way at half impulse speed. The cloud of gases swallowed both ships whole. As soon as the ship was inside, forward sensors picked up the Romulan vessel ahead. It sat there waiting like a spider in the center of a web.

"All stop," Riker commanded.

Counter thrusters fired forcing the Enterprise to a stop. The Davenport slid up next to it like a dog at heal. The three ships sat staring at each other. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief when, after several tense seconds, nothing happened.

"Ops, report," Riker ordered.

Lieutenant Commander Meps tapped a few controls and read the information before responding, "The nebula is composed of mostly dust, but it has a layer of ionized hydrogen along the outer edge, creating a sort of shell, making it difficult to scan. The dust is somehow allowing our sensors to penetrate the outer layer. We can see out, but no one can see in."

Riker nodded, "Tactical?"

Commander Kotor, the tactical officer, rattled off the his report in a relaxed manner, "The warbird has it's shields up, but weapons powered down. Our shields our holding at optimum levels as are the Davenport's. So far, there is no sign of any other ships in the area. "

"Hail the Kothre and have the Davenport listen in," Riker ordered. Meps tapped few controls and Capitan Donatra appeared on screen.

"Hello Riker," Donotra said.

"Hello Captain," Riker said, "We're preparing the computer link for the continuous tandem scan. Your team can transport over whenever you're ready."

Donatra nodded, "Actually I'd like to supervise the team myself if that's okay with you, Captain."

Something nagged at Riker from the back of his mind that something wasn't right about this, but he ignored it. The Federation had been at odds with the Romulan Empire for as long as Riker had been alive. He dismissed the notion as old fashioned human racism.

"Very well," Riker replied, "Let us know as soon as you are ready"

"Thank you Captain," Donotra replied. The view screen went blank for only a second before Captain Benjamin, standing on his bridge, appeared.

"You know this is a bad idea," Benjamin said immediately.

"Maybe," Riker said, "but we do need their help. Besides, none of them are allowed on your ship. We have ample security here."

"Very well," Benjamin consented, "My first officer, Commander Siegel, will be beaming over with Doctor Lazarus and the research team."

Benjamin indicated a man seated behind him. He was black, with no hair on his head or face. But his most noticeable feature was that he was big. Standing at almost two meters tall, his shoulders were wide enough that Riker wondered if he could fit through doors. The man smiled, causing him to look quite charming despite his intimidating size.

"It'll be a pleasure to meet the famous Captain William T. Riker in person," The big man said in a smooth baritone.

Riker smiled in spite of himself, "Thank you, Commander. Gather your research team and let us know when you're ready."

* * *

Riker and Worf stood in transporter room two, awaiting the arrival of the first group of guests. Riker looked over his shoulder at Ensign Jacobs standing at the transporter control panel.

She answered his silent question, "Coordinates coming in now, Sir."

Jacobs tapped a few more controls and the pad lit up and began to emanate a low _hum_. The noise rose in pitch, reaching a steady tone as the forms solidified on the pad. A second later, Commander Siegel and three other Starfleet officers stood in front of them. All of them, save Siegel, wore the traditional blue of science officers. Siegel wore the red of command. As the big man approached, Riker decided that his earlier assessment had been wrong. He was most definitely two meters tall; at least. The man shook his hand, grinning.

"I hope you don't mind me telling you that you have been my hero since I was in the academy."

Riker laughed, "Only if you don't tell me how long ago you graduated."

Siegel chuckled, "Yeah, I had to tell that to the captain. Did you know he's almost a decade younger than me? But I digress. Captain Riker, this is Doctor Archibald Lazarus." He indicated the oldest member of the group. The man was tall and slender, with grey hair and a full beard. He stepped forward and nodded to Riker. The other two seemed to take their queue from him, following at a measured distance.

He gestured to the other officers, "Riker, this is my team. May we be shown to the lab?"

Riker was a little taken aback by the lack of social grace. The man looked bored with Riker, and didn't seem to feel the need to hide it. He glanced at the team and saw them staring intently at their shoes. He decided to ignore it and instead affected a smile.

"Yes, this is my first officer, Commander Worf," Riker indicated the klingon, "He will take you to your research station on board the Enterprise." The older man nodded, then all three followed Worf out of the room.

"Are they always like that?" Riker asked.

"I think so," Siegel answered, "They mostly kept to themselves on the trip up here. Weird bunch. Anyway, I believe we have some romulans to welcome aboard."

Riker looked again over his shoulder. Jacobs shook his head, indicating that he hadn't heard from the Kothre. Riker started to open his mouth to tell Siegel as much, but just then his comm badge beeped.

"Bridge to Riker," It was Kotor. As second officer, he had taken over the bridge in the absence of Riker and Worf.

Riker tapped his badge, "Riker here"

"Sir we have some strange readings coming from the Kothre," Kotor responded, sounding worried.

"What kind of readings?" Riker asked.

"Not sure sir," Kotor said, "They're similar to some of the readings that-"

"Benjamin to Enterprise," came a sudden interruption, "Those are transporter beams! You've been boarded!"

"Red alert! Shields up!" Riker ordered. Without a word, Riker and Siegel went out the door and practically ran toward the turbo lift. As they rounded a corner, Siegel suddenly jumped to the side, pulling Riker with him. A disruptor beam hit the wall behind where they had come around the corner. Riker looked around, confused by the sudden impact and flash of light. A romulan stood at the other end of the hall, a disruptor rifle in hand. He raised the rifle again, taking aim. Siegel, moving impossibly fast, barreled into the attacker. The two tumbled, landing in a heap on the ground. Riker heard a distinctive _crack_ sound and hoped that it wasn't Siegel's neck

Riker got to his feet. Tapping his badge, he shouted, "Intruder alert! Deck eight!"

Siegel began pushing himself up on his hands. Riker breathed a quiet sigh of relief before rushing to help the big man. As he got to his feet, Siegel stretched his arm and shoulder where it had hit the attacker.

"You alright?" Riker asked.

Siegel winced as he rubbed his bicep, "He's hard. When we hit the ground, it was like running full speed into a bulkhead. I think I broke his neck, though."

Riker's brow furrowed. He looked over at the body just as security came running around the corner. Two men, each with a phaser out and at the ready, looked over the situation with relief. They holstered their weapons.

The captain tapped his badge again, "Riker to Kotor, report."

"Captain, this is Meps," came a female voice, "Kotor left the bridge to deal with the intruders. We're getting reports from all over the ship. I count at least ten from decks two through eighteen. Security teems have been dispatched to all of them. The Kothre hasn't done anything and isn't responding to hails."

"Keep me informed." Riker ordered, tapping his badge again.

All four men jumped when the romulan on the floor moved. He rolled over and began lifting himself off the ground. Before anyone could blink, both security officers had their phasers out and aimed at the threat. The romulan stood before them, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. He began walking toward them in halting, jerking movements. Both men fired. The beams of energy hit the thing in the chest and seemed to disperse across it's body.

"Full power!" Riker ordered, "Fire!"

As Riker spoke, the men set their phasers to their highest level, powerful enough to disintegrate most biological creatures and put holes in titanium bulkheads. Riker could feel the heat from the immense amount of energy. Twin beams stabbed the romulan to no more effect then before. The security officers released the beam as the thing reached them. It grabbed one by the neck and, with seemingly no effort, hurled him down the hallway.

Before it could grab the other, Siegel charged it again. Knocking the thing against the wall, he pinned it there with his knee. Grabbing both upper arms, he leaned back and pulled, using his planted knee for leverage. After a few seconds of sustained pressure, there was a wet _rip _and the arms came off.

Blood soaked the sides of the shirt as the thing twisted and struggled beneath Siegel's knee. Riker felt bile rise in his throat from seeing such grotesque sight. His skin went icy cold as he looked at the shoulders. Metal tubing and dull gray rods stuck out from the gaping tears.

Rather than standing back from it, Siegel grabbed the neck with one hand and forced the fingers of his other hand inside the creature's mouth. Riker watched Siegel as he grunted and, with seemingly super human strength, began to pull the creature's head off where the jaw met the rest of the skull. As it separated, Riker could see more metal tubes being stretched out. With the same prolonged, wet _rip_ sound as before, the head slowly tore away from the lower jaw. Once it was completely off, Siegel pushed himself off of the thing and stood back. It wobbled for a second on unsteady legs then, as though its strings had been cut, dropped to the ground.

Riker looked at Siegel, who was breathing heavily and still holding the top half of the creature's head. Riker wasn't sure which scared him more, that Siegel was capable of such startling, bare handed violence, or that he seemed so willing to dispense it.

"Kotor to the captain," the security chief's voice came over the comm, "We have a serious problem! The romulans have some kind of shielding. We can't-"

"I know," Riker interrupted, "They're not romulans, they're some kind of android or cyborg. Erect force fields and try to stay out of their way until we can figure out how to stop them."

"Yes sir," Kotor said.

"I can do it," Siegel declared, "I can stop them."

"No," Riker said immediately, "You can't just rip them all apart with your bare hands. Besides, it's too dangerous to send you after all of them alone."

Siegel nodded his assent, accepting Riker's reasoning. Riker left unsaid that he didn't feel comfortable letting Siegel out of his sight. He wanted to know exactly why the big commander had such strength. He wasn't going to let a man like that loose on his ship with some answers first, especially considering the circumstances.

"Let's get to the bridge," Riker ordered.

* * *

"He tore it apart with his bare hands?" Picard asked incredulously.

Riker nodded, "Sir, I have seen some terrible things in my time on this ship. I remember the battle for Betazed and the devastation of Wolf Three Five Nine, but this…" His voice trailed off as a little shiver ran down his spine, "It was so personal."

Picard nodded, "I understand will. I am curious though, did you keep the," he paused, searching for the right word, "body? Is it on the ship?"

"Yes," Riker said, "The Doctor and Meps wanted to study it. We have it in the science lab."

Picard raised the teacup to his lips. His features twisted with dissatisfaction when he discovered the tea had gone cold. He was about to order another when Vogan walked up with a fresh, steamy cup.

"Here you are, Admiral," he said, "I saw that yours had gone cold, so I took the liberty."

Picard smiled. He took a sip of the fresh tea, deeply inhaling the fragrance as he did. Picard was going to compliment Vogan, but when he opened his eyes, the bajorian was already stepping lively back to the bar.

"I can see why you keep him around, Number One," Picard said, "He's as good as Guinan ever was."

Riker laughed, "Yes, he's very good. I just hope no one other ship ever gets their hands on him. I'll never get him back."

Picard took a few seconds to enjoy another sip before setting down his cup. "So tell me, Will," he said finally, "what happened next."

"We encounter two more of the creatures on the way to the bridge," Riker said, "Seigel beat one to death, and he tore the other in half," Riker ran a finger down the right side of his neck down his chest to indicate the direction of the tear.

"Once we got to the bridge, we discovered that the situation wasn't quite as bad as I had feared. The force fields were slowing the things down and everyone was mostly staying out of the way. There wasn't any pattern to their movements that we could discern. They seemed to just be randomly raising hell on the ship. And doing a damn good job, too. After about twenty minutes of this, we Worf called from the lab…"

* * *

"Sir," Worf's voice came over the intercom, "Doctor Lazarus believes he might have a solution to get rid of the intruders."

"Let's hear it," Riker ordered.

"He says that he can beam them off the ship using the metal skeletons in their bodies, but we have to give him control of the main computer."

"Doctor Lazarus," Riker called, prompting the computer to include him in the conversation, "Will you need to lower the shields?"

"No Captain," Lazarus responded immediately, "I will put them between the hull and the shields."

Riker began to weigh his options, but a sudden _bang_ caught the attention of everyone on the bridge. Everyone looked to the source of the noise, the turbo lift doors. A dent had been created where the doors met. Another _bang_ and the dent became larger, creating a small opening. Fingers wriggled their way through the crack and began to force the door open.

"Do it now Lazarus!" Riker ordered.

"It will take a moment to calibrate the transporters and the sensors," Lazarus responded.

"Just do it!" Riker ordered.

The door groaned as it was forced open. Siegel crouched, presumably preparing to charged the invader. Riker held up a hand shook his head. Siegel relaxed, but only slightly. The door finally yielded enough to allow an entire body through. The romulan android stepped sideways through the door, disruptor rifle in hand. Everyone held their breath as it raised the weapon, taking aim for Riker. Before it could pull the trigger, blue light dropped down over it and it began to fade. It pushed against the confinement beam, trying desperately to escape. The high pitched hum of the transporter began to fluctuate, indicating the lock was losing its hold. After several tense seconds, the creature faded from view entirely.

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Siegel squatted with his back to the wall and began breathing heavily. Torik ran to his aid, kneeling at his side.

"Commander," he asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah,"Siegel answered between breaths, "Adrenalin crash..._huff huff_...effects me..._huff huff_...more than most."

"We should get you to sick bay," Torik said, "Can you stand?"

Siegel nodded and, with Torik's aid, got to his feet and walked to the turbo lift. The Ops control panel began chiming almost as soon as they were out of the room. Meps stared at it for a moment, as though she suddenly didn't know what to do about it. Something seemed to click and she touched the panel. She read the information.

"Were being hailed," she said uncertainly, "It's the Kothre."

"On screen," Riker ordered.

Donotra appeared on screen, standing in front of his chair. Nothing about him had changed. He still stared with those cold, calculating eyes.

"Hello Riker," He said, his voice unsettlingly smooth, "I hope you aren't experiencing any problems."

"What the hell is going on, Donotra?" Riker yelled

Donotra shook his head, "Oh I don't think that's the question you should be asking, Riker. The question you should be asking is; 'What do I do to keep her safe?'"

Donotra reached out of view someone on screen. When he saw her, Riker's stomach dropped into his feet and his heart leaped into his throat. _NO, _his mind screamed, _He couldn't possibly have gotten to her. How is it possible?_ Every muscle locked rigid and his voice failed him. Donotra held a struggling Deanna Riker.

"If your a good boy and do exactly as I tell you, she won't get hurt."

* * *

AN: Hey guys, please leave a review. I'd kinda like to know how I'm doing. Thanks.


	8. The Challenge

Anthony Siegel opened his eyes and stared for a time at the ceiling of his temporary quarters on board the Enterprise. His whole body still felt like he had hit a wall going at warp nine. He rolled over, the bed protesting under his massive weight, and reached for the glass of water he had left for himself the night before. His fingers fumbled around in the darkness and, before he could stop himself, knocked over the glass. He heard a soft thud and quiet splash as it hit the floor. He groaned inwardly because he didn't have the energy to do it out loud. After a few minutes, he finally got together the motivation to ask for the time.

"The time is thirteen hundred and twenty-one hours," the computer's familiar voice chimed.

Siegel groaned and rolled back over, fully intending to sleep until the Terran star went nova. Before he could get back to sleep however, his comm badge beeped and his captain's voice sounded.

"Wakey, wakey sleepy head." Benjamin said in a matter of fact voice that didn't match the words.

Siegel again rolled over and fumbled in the darkness, this time looking for his badge. When he heard familiar clicking tone, he wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it close to his face.

"What do you want, James?" He mumbled, his voice half muffled by the bedding.

"Is that any way to talk to your captain?" Benjamin responded with exaggerated indignance.

Siegel started to roll his eyes, but stopped when the motion caused pain to flare in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain away. His training came to the front of his mind unbidden. He could hear his old master's voice, speaking very softly, forcing a very young Anthony to listen carefully.

"Pain cannot be controlled. It is a wild monster that will rage inside you. What you must learn to do is refuse to acknowledge its presence. Treat it as though it doesn't exist. This will be very difficult, but doable."

Siegel opened his eyes and focused on the badge in his hand with everything in him. Finally able to ignore the aching in his muscles, he responded to his captain.

"I'm off duty," he said, "What do you want?"

"I thought a nice, high gravity run would do you some good."

Siegel sat up, brow furrowed in confusion, "That program was on the Davenport. They won't have it in the holodeck here."

"I know," Benjamin answered cheerfully, "I got a stock hiking program and increased the gravity. Get dressed and meet me in holodeck 2."

Siegel stood and looked around for his running pants. "Be there in two minutes," he said before closing the channel.

* * *

Spike walked down the depressingly well lit hall, seeing people openly stare at him. He would have been indignant about it, but he had caught himself staring more than once at the various creatures he had seen. The Doctor walked with him, talking to him about the history of the United Federation of Planets and its military, Starfleet.

Spike had grasped most of it, but it still blew him away. He must have been out for a _very_ long time, indeed. After watching the video, Spike had asked about how the world had changed. The response from the Doctor was overwhelming. Humanity had apparently completely left the world of magic behind. None of the truths of the demons and other dimensions had survived the centuries. As they had expanded into space, humanity had completely forgotten the truth of their origin.

One piece of the puzzle of his presence here clicked into place. The prophecy started with "When humanity is seeded among the stars". That certainly was the case here. His head spun with all of the new information. He stopped walking a put a hand to the Doctor's chest.

"Doc," He said wearily, "I don't think I can take anymore right now."

The Doctor nodded, "Of course, Spike. I understand that this must be very difficult for you. It's a lot to take in. But here we are, the holodeck. You were looking for a chance to, how did you put it?"

"Stretch my ass-kicking muscles," Spike answered.

"Ah yes," the Doctor laughed, "Well this room will create what ever fantasy you desire. We use it to relax, but also to run important simulations and experiments. Commander Worf has a number of combat training programs that he uses. Any preference on weapons?"

Spike shook his head, "Nothing like a bare fisted punch to the face to let someone know who their dealing with."

"Suite yourself," the Doctor shrugged, "Computer?"

The panel next to the door chimed in response.

"Run Worf Exercise Program Alpha."

The panel chimed and a woman's voice answered, "This holodeck is already in use."

"What?" the Doctor said, surprised, "By who?"

"The holodeck's current occupants are Captain James Benjamin and Commander Anthony Siegel." The female voice answered.

"Open the door," the Doctor ordered

"Warning," the computer responded urgently, "The gravity inside the holodeck is one point five times normal. Authorization required."

The Doctor huffed, "Doctor authorization one six seven nine delta."

The computer chimed and the door slid open. The Doctor and Spike walked through. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Spike could feel the increased gravity. His coat seamed heavier and he could even feel the difference in the way his limbs moved. The inside appeared to be a convenience store inside a log cabin. The walls, shelves, and even the desk appeared to be made of lovingly hand carved wood. There were lights in the ceiling, but whoever was in charge appeared to prefer the sunlight streaming in from the various large windows. Spike stepped carefully to avoid the beams as he walked around the store. A voice made him jump.

"Didn't see you two come in," said a man behind the counter, "What can I do for you?"

He was dressed in a pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt. It unnerved Spike that he couldn't smell the man. He figured that it had to be like the Doctor, he was a hologram, so he had no scent. Knowing that didn't make it any less annoying.

"Hello," The Doctor said to the rustic clerk, "We're looking for two friends of ours. A Big, bald man and a smaller one with a beard."

The clerk nodded, "Yeah, they were here. They got water and went up the trail. If you hurry, you can catch them. They only left a couple of minutes ago."

The Doctor moved to the door and opened it. As the light came into the room, Spike took a casual step back putting himself just out of reach. The Doctor looked back and motioned for Spike to follow.

"I don't know how much you know about vampires, Mate," he said, "But we're not the tanning type."

The Doctor motioned outside, "It's a holographic sun, it won't hurt you."

Spike scoffed, "You're not the one who gets served up extra crispy if you're wrong."

"Would you come on?" The Doctor said in an impatient tone.

Spike carefully took a step forward and let the tips of his fingers into the light. The expected white hot irons stabbing into his hand and moving up his arm didn't come. He stepped fully into light. The glorious sensation of warmth swept over him, showing him the world in a way he never thought possible.

"Are you ready?" The Doctor asked

* * *

Captain Benjamin and Commander Siegel stood at the first rest point on the trail. Siegel took slow even breaths while Benjamin huffed and puffed. Benjamin stretched his sore legs, trying to work the kinks out.

"I'll never understand how it is that you can endure so much physical punishment," Benjamin said after catching his breath.

"That's your problem," Siegel replied, "You assume that I endure it. You were taught to endure pain, while I was taught to ignore it. For you, pain is an adversary meant to be conquered. For me, it simply doesn't exist."

Benjamin shook his head, taking a drink from his water bottle. The action reminded Siegel of his own thirst. He pulled his own bottle and drank. There was something on the captain's mind. Siegel was just waiting for him to bring it up, but he knew that could take forever. He finally lost patience and decided to ask.

"What's on your mind, James?"

Benjamin pushed the air out between pursed lips. He stared off in the distance for a moment longer. Finally he said, "I'm lodging a formal complaint against Captain Riker."

Siegel shook his head, "You shouldn't do that, James."

"What do you expect me to do, Tony?" Benjamin asked quietly.

"I expect you to be reasonable," Siegel answered firmly, "Riker did the only thing he could do. Donotra had his wife. Besides, if Riker had stuck around, the Enterprise would have been disabled like the Davenport, the Kothre would have gotten away and we would all be dead."

"You expect me to believe that?" Benjamin asked incredulously, "The Enterprise is a Sovereign Class starship, the most advanced ship in the fleet. It's the flagship of the United Federation of Planets. You expect me to believe that it wouldn't have had a slightly better chance of surviving that encounter than us. The Davenport was a second generation Nebula Class. It wasn't designed for combat. It was a science vessel. Riker caused the deaths of thirty good men and women because he couldn't let his wife go. He should have stayed and done his duty."

Siegel grabbed his captain by the shoulder, trying desperately to get his point across, "Will you listen to yourself. It's like you've got some kind of grudge. He would never have left his wife and you know that. The Enterprise might have had a marginally better chance in that trap, but it not being caught was the only thing that saved the lives of the five hundred eighty-one people who survived. Besides, you said it yourself, the people who died did so saving the rest of the crew. All things considered, James, we're extremely lucky to be alive."

A voice caught both of their attention. They turned to see two people walking up the trail toward them. One was the ship's doctor, but Siegel didn't recognize the other one. The unfamiliar one had platinum blond hair and a long black coat. Siegel couldn't help noting how ridiculous he looked, especially on a forest hiking trail. He looked to the captain, who shrugged.

"I suppose we should go meet them," Benjamin said.

* * *

Spike and the Doctor had been walking for about ten minutes when they saw the two officers heading down the hill. One of them was short and average looking, with brown hair and a goatee. The other seemed like a giant in comparison. The mountain of a man toward over his companion.

The Doctor seemed not to have any trouble scaling the hill even in the increased gravity. Spike would never admit it, but he was starting to wish he'd left his coat back at the store. He stopped when he reached a flat spot. The two men were not far from them and Spike was actually tired.

"Commander Siegel," the Doctor said in a chiding tone, "What do you think you're doing up and about. I told you to rest, yet I find you high gravity hiking. Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Doctor," The bigger man said, holding up a hand to forestall any more arguments, "I know my limitations and needs better than you do. I need to be moving around."

"That may be," the Doctor said, "But you still shouldn't be trying to do a high gravity hike."

"Look Doc," The shorter man interjected, "I asked him to come. I've known Tony since my academy days. Trust me, this is what he needs more than anything."

"And if his musculature collapses under the increased weight of his skeleton?" He asked.

"It won't," the big man said, annoyed, "I was raised on Vulcan specifically because of its high gravity. It's the only reason my muscles can support my skeleton. I have to keep it up to maintain my strength."

"Look Mate," Spike said, speaking for the first time, "I would listen to the Doc. Now clear off so I can get in a spot of violence before bed time."

All eyes turned to Spike. Even the Doctor seemed surprised at his sudden interjection. Spike looked right at the big man, raised his eyebrows and held out his hands as if to say _what, you have a problem?_

The smaller man stepped forward, "Who are you?"

"I'm Spike. I-"

"He's the one we found frozen in that derelict vessel," The Doctor interrupted, "I promised him use of the holodeck for sparring."

The smaller one cocked an eyebrow, "Oh, you want to spar? Well I know I could use a work out."

Spike looked at the smaller man. "Who are you?" he asked.

The man straightened, extending his hand. "Forgive me," he said, "I am Captain James Benjamin, formerly of the USS Davenport. This is my first officer, Commander Anthony Siegel.

Spike didn't take the man's hand. "And you want to spar? With me?" Spike scoffed.

"Only if you're up to it," Benjamin answered, smirking.

The Doctor stepped forward, "Now Spike, I don't think-"

"Sounds like fun," Spike said, ignoring the Doctor.

* * *

AN: As always, please let me know what you think.


	9. The Fight

"Computer," Benjamin called. It chimed in response.

"End program and return gravity to normal."

The ground, rocks, trees, and even the sky dissolved around Spike, leaving only a brightly lit room with metallic walls behind. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. The sensation was very disorienting, like suddenly being sucked through a portal.

"Computer," The big one, Siegel, commanded, "Create a sparring ring."

"There are one thousand fifty-eight kinds of sparring ring in the database," the female voice responded, "Please specify type."

"Twenty-first century Earth martial arts competition style," He said.

The air in the room rippled and the metallic walls dissolved, revealing stands with several hundred people sitting in them. The floor had become a large, square, raised platform with a slightly smaller circle inside. Spike spun in surprise. The whole place had changed on the command of this man. Spike decided that he could get used to this, but only of he were the one giving the commands.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" A booming voice announced, "Please help me in welcoming our combatants. First, hailing from the pleasure city of Las Vegas on planet Earth, JAMES BEEEEENJAAAAAMIIIIIIN!"

About half of the crowd stood and cheered madly. The other half booed and hurled insults. Benjamin and Siegel looked at each other and both shook their heads, laughing.

"And his opponent, the mysterious SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!"

This time the half that had cheered began to boo and hiss, while the rest went wild at the name. Spike looked around again, still confused. He decided that if they were going to cheer, he was going to give them a show. He pumped his fist in the air and the crowd cheered even louder. The Doctor rolled his eyes. Siegel and Benjamin stood across the ring still shaking their heads.

After turning in a slow circle once, Spike grabbed the his coat and pulled it off, taking his red button up with it, so that he only wore his black t-shirt and jeans. He handed them to the Doctor, who took them with reluctance.

"You need to be careful, Spike," the Doctor said over the sound of the crowd, "Captain Benjamin is renowned for his hand to hand combat prowess. Rumor has it he was trained in an ancient style of combat by a master on Earth."

"Doc, it's okay," Spike said, smirking, "Vampire, remember?"

Spike walked backward to the ring, grinning. He turned after he'd crossed the threshold of the ring to see a shirtless Benjamin in a ready fighting stance. The man was very fit, tight cords of muscle running over his chest and arms. Spike would never had guessed the man was that cut from seeing him in the loose shirt he had been wearing. Something about the way he stood tickled Spike's memory. He recognized something about it, but he couldn't place where he had seen it before.

A lanky man with brown hair stepped up onto the ring and motioned for the two to step forward. Spike saw that when Benjamin moved, he didn't relax at all. It was like watching a coiled snake walk up to you.

"Rules are simple," the man said over the noise, "Shots between the waist and one inch above the knee are off limits, as is hitting while your opponent is down. Hits to the limbs are worth no points, the torso is one point and the head is two points. A knock down is worth three points. First to five wins the round. Two rounds wins the match. Understand?"

Both men nodded.

"Great, to your marks."

Benjamin walked to a mark near the center of the circle and got into a fight stance again. Spike took the hint and moved to the other one.

"Ready? FIGHT!"

Benjamin launched at Spike much faster than expected. He only just managed to knock the fist away from his face. He his leg come out from underneath him as Benjamin swept it with his foot. The other fist hit square in his chest right where his ribs met, knocking the wind from his lungs.

Spike was only vaguely aware of the fact that he had hit the ground. The crowd's cheers and boos rung in his ears. The referee and the Doctor were over him, asking him if was okay. The referee pressed him to continue, while the Doctor told him he needed to stop.

"A nice sweep-punch combo from Benjamin," the announcer said with enthusiasm, "The body shot is worth one point and the knockdown is worth three, giving Benjamin a total of four points. A fantastic start for the Starfleet Captain."

Spike stood up, shaking off the dizziness and the two men over him. The referee ask him if he was going to continue, and he nodded. The referee signaled and the crowd cheered again, louder that Spike had thought possible.

"It looks as though Spike is ready to continue," The announcer said, a little too surprised for Spike's liking.

The two combatants stood at their marks. The signal came and Benjamin launched his attack. This time, however, Spike was ready for it. He blocked the fists and side stepped the sweep. The kick came for his chest, but he caught it with both hands. He intended to throw the small man, but Benjamin jumped, coiled his free leg and released it with the force of a battering ram. The foot hit Spike in the same spot as had the fist and he felt the air leave his lungs again.

He dropped the foot, but rushed forward with the intention of throttling the little prick. The referee stood in his way, saying something about the round being over, but Spike didn't care. The lanky man was stronger than Spike expect though, and managed to hold him back.

"And that's the round folks," the announcer said, "With that kick, Benjamin landed himself the last point he needed. If the mysterious Spike doesn't do something in the next round, we might have a complete shut out."

Spike finally walked willingly back to his corner. The Doctor was waiting for him.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked, "You've been frozen for a long time."

"It's okay Doc," Spike said, "I was just getting warmed up. I know what I'm facing now. It's time for me to make my presence known."

"By getting kicked repeatedly?" The Doctor asked.

"Very funny," Spike said, "But I recognize his fighting style. It's called kung-fu. I took down a Chinese slayer who fought like that. He's no slayer."

The Doctor cocked an eyebrow, "Slayer?"

"It's a long story," Spike answered as he was climbing back into the ring.

The referee motioned them both to the center, "It's one round to nothing. Spike, you must win this round or you lose the match, do you understand?"

"Yeah, I bloody got it," Spike answered.

"Alright," the referee said, "To your marks."

The two men moved to the lines in the floor. Benjamin assumed his fighting stance, while Spike casually shifted his weight and put his hands in his pockets.

"Ready," the referee shouted, "FIGHT!"

This time Benjamin opened with a kick to the face. Spike moved slightly, allowing it to go wide. Benjamin pulled his leg back and launched his other one from the side. Spike stepped back, allowing the kick to barely pass in front of his stomach. Benjamin used the momentum of his missed kick to bring his other foot around, aiming it right at Spike's head.

With one hand, he caught the foot. Before Benjamin could react, the vampire grabbed is leg just above the knee and lifted the man up, casually tossing him over his shoulder. Spike heard the man land on his feet and the sudden movement as he charged. Spiked turned just in time to catch the man's fist with his left hand. Then he let the mask slip.

* * *

The blond's face twisted into something inhuman. Benjamin had encountered hundreds of alien species in his time in Starfleet, but he decided instantly that nothing quite compared to this thing. Something ancient, something primeval stirred in Benjamin's mind. It told him to run, to flee, to hide. It told him that this was not a fight he could win and his only chance of survival was to get away.

The thing hit him in the ribs twice, kneed him in the gut, the punched him in the face. Light exploded in a thousand tiny stars behind his eyes, and then the ground came up to greet him.

* * *

Spike turned and raised his fists for the screaming crowed. His half were screaming like wild animals, drowning out the boos, hisses, and insults of the other half.

"Well folks," the announcer said, clearly stunned, "I haven't seen a turn around like that in all my years in this business. Spike seems to have decided to bring his inner warrior out to play. In a single combo, Spike has pulled out the five points he needed to win this round. It looks like were going to see a third round today."

At hearing that. The whole audience began cheering at a fevered pitch. Spike gave one last fist pump before walking over to his corner. The Doctor was staring at him in utter shock.

"I call it my 'game face'" Spike said, answering the Doctor's unspoken question, "This is how I drink blood. Otherwise, my fangs are hidden."

The Doctor still seemed at a loss for words when the referee began signaling for Spike to come back. He stepped up into the platform and moved to the center. Benjamin stood on his mark, coiled as tight as spun steel.

"Ready, FIGHT!"

Benjamin brought out his left fist at an awkward angle. Spike caught it, but missed the move it had covered. Benjamin's foot came down onto Spike's leg, just behind the knee. His knee bent involuntarily, causing him to kneel as Benjamin brought his other fist up and punched Spike in the face. He raised it again and brought it down harder this time. He raised it a third time, but Spike's other hand caught it. He exploded back onto his feet, knocking both of Benjamin's arms back. His fist launched like a cannon ball right for the smaller man's face. He connected at the cheek bone just below the right eye.

Spike could tell by the way his eyes glazed and his head jiggled that he had knocked the man out. Benjamin dropped to his knees, then fell forward onto the mat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," The announcer shouted, "I don't believe I'm about to say this, but your winner is Spike!"

Spike raised his hands over his head and turned in a slow circle as the whole crowd cheered. The noise was defining, but after a minute or two, the crowd began a coherent chant, "SPIKE, SPIKE, SPIKE, SPIKE!"

Spike looked over to his corner to see that the Doctor wasn't there. He looked over his shoulder and saw him and Siegel tending to Benjamin, who was seated in a chair looking dazed, but awake. The big man had a bucket that the smaller man was spitting blood into. The Doctor lifted his eyelids, looking at him for a moment longer.

Spike put his game face away. Apparently deciding Benjamin was okay, the Doctor stepped up onto the ring and marched up to Spike.

"Computer, delete audience," He ordered curtly.

"Hey," Spike said indignantly as the audience disappeared, "I was enjoying that."

"And just what the hell was that all about?" The Doctor asked hotly, indicating the Spike's dazed opponent.

"He's the one who wanted to play," Spike defended, "Besides, he went balls out first. I just wanted to show him proper who he was dealing with."

"You nearly killed him. If you had punched him any harder, I'd be explaining his death to the captain right now."

Spike put a finger to the other man's chest, "Let's get things one hundred percent crystal, Doc. If I wanted him to kill him, you'd be explaining his death to captain right now. He challenged me, he started it off by knocking me on my ass, and he asked for it. In fact, I'd be willing to wager that if we asked him, he'd probably thank me for wiping the floor with him."

"He's right, Doctor," Benjamin said. He seemed slightly unsteady as he walked, but he did so without aid. "I haven't had a fight like that in years, not since before I joined the academy."

He held out his hand to Spike for a second time. This time, he took it and gave it a hard shake.

Benjamin released his hand. "Computer, time." He ordered.

"The time is fourteen hundred and forty-eight hours."

Benjamin sighed, "Well, it looks like we have to go. We have an appointment with Admiral Picard in a little over an hour and I want to get cleaned up."

* * *

Spike had fought various creatures using the program the Doctor had started for him for more than an hour. After that, Spiked asked about getting a drink, something that wasn't blood. The Doctor suggested a place called "Vogan's" and led him there.

Sitting at a table, Spike drank his fake beer, something called _synthal_, and the Doctor sat with him.

"What was with Captain Hits-a-lot and Commander Very-big-man?" Spike asked, "He said _formally_ of the Davenport. What did that mean?"

"His ship was destroyed in an attack a few days ago," The Doctor answered, "The Enterprise was called back to Earth to decide the best course of action. Good thing, for you I mean. We wouldn't have found you if we hadn't been on our way back."

"That's bullocks," Spike said, "What attacked you?"

The Doctor squinted, "Not sure, some kind of cybernetic organism. They were pretending to be Romulans."

Spike's eyebrows shot up, "Cyborgs? Like robots?"

The Doctor nodded, "I suppose that's a simplistic way of putting, yes. But there-"

"And the Romulans," Spike interrupted, "They're the ones you've been fighting with for a couple hundred years, yeah?"

"Not quite, Spike." The Doctor answered, shaking his head, "We've had a kind of uneasy truce for-"

"I need to talk to your captain right now," Spike said urgently.

"Spike what are you-"

"Please, just trust me," Spike implored.

The Doctor considered for a moment. Finally he nodded and tapped his badge.

"Doctor to Captain Riker," he said

"Riker here," the captain's voice came of the comm.

"Captain, Spike says he needs to speak with you immediately. He says it's urgent."


	10. Secrets Revealed

AN: This was initially supposed to be two chapters, but when I finished the first section, it just seemed too short. This should make a few of my readers happy, because we finally get to hear the prophecy that brought Spike to the future.

* * *

Picard drummed his fingers on the conference table as he waited on his appointment. In lieu of his ready room, this seemed like the best place to think. From the window on the wall of the room, he could see Earth, the planet that had been his home for the last few years. He knew that he was getting older, but he still felt the draw of exploration.

Lately though, he'd felt like a museum exhibit. He sat at his desk and smiled as various dignitaries and envoys marched through his office. Their guide would then talk with awe about his various exploits and tell them in hushed tones that most of what he had done was classified. He was expected to entertain them with stories of what he could tell them about, but Picard had never been good at telling stories.

His mind wandered again to the years spent in a captain's chair. He remembered well Kirk's advice; _Don't let them promote you, don't let them transfer you, don't let them do anything to take you off the Bridge of that ship. Because while you're there, you can make a difference._

He had held onto the chair as long as command would let him. It was only the promise of an office near his families' vineyard in France that had finally gotten him to consent to a promotion. That and the aches and pains of age. Most of his days since from then on had been spent looking at reports and assigning missions to ships. At least his new position allowed him plenty of time to ride.

One thing that he never seemed to have enough time for while commanding the Enterprise was a brisk ride in the country. Even when he did manage to sneak away for a few hours, the horses on the holodeck never seemed quite right. Even when he instructed the computer to allow him to control the horse, the safety protocols kept him a little too safe.

A chime broke into his thoughts. "The time is fifteen hundred and fifty hours," the computer said.

Picard took a moment to clear his thoughts and looked back to the pad on the conference table. He began to scan it once more, but he had only read two sentences when the door opened and two men stepped in. One was the man he had seen before, Captain Benjamin. The other must have been his first officer. He had been told about how big Commander Siegel was, but he had always assumed those descriptions were just exaggerations. He now saw that they didn't do him justice.

Both men stood in front of Picard at attention. He took another minute or two to skim the report before casually tossing on it the table. He looked at the two men and considered for a moment longer. He mentally noted a bruise forming around Bejamin's left eye.

"Sit," he finally said, indicating the chairs before him. The two men did as instructed. Picard could hear the chair creak under Siegel's weight.

"Captain Benjamin," Picard started, folding his hands on the table, "Please explain your reasons for your complaint against Captain Riker."

Benjamin drew in a deep breath, "I wish to formally apologize and withdraw my complaint, Sir."

Picard's eyebrows shot up. "You were quite adamant earlier about his involvement in the deaths of thirty of your crew and the destruction of your ship," he leaned back in his chair, "What changed your mind?"

Benjamin leaned an elbow on the table and relaxed a little. "It was my first officer, actually," he said, "We talked about it over the last couple hours and now I realize that Captain Riker could not have known what would happen. He made decisions based on the information that he had and it was unfair for me to condemn him based on my twenty-twenty hind sight."

Picard nodded. He was honestly impressed by how level headed he seemed now, especially compared to his attitude this morning. He guessed that he must put a great deal of weight on his first officer's opinion.

Picard leaned forward and slid Riker's report across the table to Benjamin.

"Read over that and tell me if you feel that it is a fair assessment of the situation."

Benjamin picked up the pad and began to read.

* * *

Benjamin skimmed over the first half of the report. It was Riker's account of what had happened. Everything up until the point that the Kothre hailed the Enterprise after the initial attack, Benjamin knew already. He was most interested in what had occurred when the Kothre had fled and the Enterprise had given chase.

He reached about the middle of the report, mentally prepared himself, and read on.

* * *

"Now Riker," Donatra said, "We're going to leave the nebula, and you're going to stay here with a boarding party until you can be collected."

"Collected? By who?" Riker asked

Donatra chuckled, "Don't worry about that, you'll see soon enough."

The screen went blank. Riker looked to Meps, who brought up a view of the forward sensors. The screen lit up again, showing the Kothre holding position in front of them. Suddenly the image began to waver and fade.

"They're cloaking, Sir," Meps said urgently, "Compensating."

The ship still continued to fade, but now they could see ripples in the space where it had been, the computer trying to visually interpret the information it was getting from the sensors. Meps touched a few more controls and a shadowy image of the ship appeared in place of the ripples.

"Great job, Meps," Riker said, the slightest bit relieved.

"Don't thank me Captain," Meps replied, "Their cloak is almost ten years out of date."

Riker considered that for a moment before touching his badge, "Riker to Lazarus."

"Lazarus here," came the reply.

"We're about to have company," Riker said, "Do you think you can keep them off the ship?"

"Maybe, Captain," Lazarus said hesitantly, "I'll need control of the shields."

"Worf?" Riker called.

"Already done, Sir," Worf confirmed.

The turbo lift door opened and Kotor stepped into the room. His uniform was dirty and torn in places. He sported a nasty gash on the side of his face.

"Meps, keep track of that Warbird," Riker ordered, "I want to know the second it moves! Kotor, I'm going to assume that because you're here, that cut on your face can wait. Take your station."

"Yes sir," he said.

"Captain," Torik called, "It appears that Dr. Lazarus's shield changes are in place."

_That was fast_, Riker thought.

Torik went on, "We won't know if it will work until they try to beam-"

The vulcan was cut cut off by a beeping on the tactical panel. Kotor touched the control and read the information.

"We've sustained several small hits to our shields," The tactical officer reported, "They're holding. The energy signature is identical to the transporter beams they used earlier."

Meps suddenly looked up, "Sir! The Kothre is coming about and powering their engines."

"Torik, send a message to the Davenport." the captain ordered, "Tell them we're going to chase the Kothre and order them to stay put. Tenpenny, follow that ship."

Tenpenny tapped a few controls and the Enterprise began to move forward in line with the shadowy Warbird. When the Kothre jumped to warp, the Enterprise immediately followed.

"Captain," Tenpenny said, "This is odd."

"What's that Lieutenant?" Riker asked.

"We're not headed for the Romulan border," the helmsman said, "We seem to be headed toward the energy signature we came here to investigate."

"Kotor, energize a full spread of quantum torpedoes," Riker ordered, "I want to take out their engines.

Riker's second officer shook his head, "Not a good idea, Sir."

"Indeed," Torik interjected, "Romulans use a quantum flux to power their ships. Hitting the engine with quantum torpedo at warp could create a much larger quantum flux. That could create a singularity much larger than we have ever seen."

"How much larger?" Riker asked. _Stupid question_, he chided himself after he asked it.

"Theoretically, it could engulf the entire Neutral Zone."

Riker thought a moment, "If we can get them to stop?"

"Then it significantly reduces the risk," Torik said. Riker raised an eyebrow, so the vulcan answered "To less than one percent, Sir"

"I might be able to tractor beam them," Kotor said suddenly, "I was looking at Meps' sensor modifications, and I think I can use them to establish a lock through the cloak."

"Do it," Riker ordered.

Moving at warp nine, the Enterprise's tractor beam shot out and caught the Kothre. The Warbird shook as its engines tried to pull not only it's own mass, but that of the much larger Sovereign Class Federation Starship. The two ships gradually slowed to a stop.

Riker tapped his badge, "Jacobs, get my wife out of there!"

A few tense, slow seconds ticked by. Riker held his breath.

"Got her, sir"

"Release the tractor beam and fire!" Riker barked.

The blue beam holding the Kothre in place disappeared at the same time as three torpedoes launched from various bays in the Enterprise. As the weapons hit, the Federation ship was already turning around and moving back toward the nebula. The Warbird exploded as the Enterprise jumped to warp.

* * *

Benjamin put the pad down and looked to Picard. He took a deep breath and sighed, "Everything up to the Enterprise chasing the Kothre seems accurate."

Picard nodded, "Tell me, what do you make of the Kothre's actions?"

Benjamin thought a moment before answering, "It actually makes sense now that I see the whole picture."

"Oh?" Picard asked.

Benjamin and Siegel shared a look. The captain seemed to be silently asking for his first officer's advice. Siegel nodded. Benjamin rapped his knuckles against the table nervously.

"Sir," he finally said, addressing Picard, "What is your security clearance?"

Picard was a little surprised at the question, "The actual level of my clearance is classified to anyone below the rank of admiral."

"Computer," Benjamin called suddenly, "Go to Conclave Mode for the conference room. Authorization Benjamin alpha seven nine alpha."

The computer chimed and a familiar voice answered, "Level Two Conclave Mode granted. Authorization required from all other parties in the room."

Siegel spoke up, "Authorization Siegel gamma gamma one six"

Picard sat in stunned silence for a few moments. These two had clearance nearly equal to his. No one below the rank of admiral was supposed to know that conclave mode even existed, let alone be able to activate it. These two were defiantly more than they appeared.

"Authorization required," the computer prompted again.

"Oh, yes," Picard said, "Authorization Picard one one nine delta"

The computer made noises for a few seconds as it digested the information. Finally it spoke up again, "Level Two Conclave Mode initiated. Doors have been sealed and communications blocked. Authorization required to end Conclave Mode."

After a moment of silence, Benjamin asked, "Admiral, what do you know about 'Project: Jumper'?"

* * *

Riker sat at his desk looking over the reports of the damage that had been done to the Enterprise during the fight in the nebula. Most of it was fairly minor and easily repaired, but he still had to read the reports.

Suddenly his badge beeped, "Doctor to Captain Riker."

Riker tapped his badge, "Riker here."

"Captain, Spike says he needs to speak with you immediately." the Doctor said "He says it's urgent."

"Doctor, I'm very busy right now," he lied, "Can it wait?"

The Doctor hesitated, "I don't think so, Sir"

He sighed, "Very well Doctor. Bring him to my ready room."

"Yes Sir," the Doctor replied.

The channel closed. Riker began to look at the report again. He really didn't want to deal with the vampire right now, but he couldn't ignore him either. The Enterprise had pulled him from cryogenic stasis, and he was now Riker's responsibility. Especially after pushing so hard about that video disc he had with his things. Like it or not, Spike had the right to be heard.

* * *

Spike chugged the last of his drink and stood when the Doctor finished his conversation.

"We need to stop by your pad," he said, "I need something from my trunk."

The Doctor nodded and the two made their way through the halls and into one of the little elevators they had used earlier. It moved at the Doctor's command and soon they making there way to sick bay. Once there, Spike immediately threw open the lid to the trunk and began rifling around. After a few minutes, he came up with a little fireproof container, designed for families to keep documents safe in case of a disaster. It had a little combination lock, but Willow had told him what the combination would be so that he could open it when he woke up.

"Got it," he declared as he held it up for the Doctor to see.

The Doctor nodded and motioned for Spike to follow. He did so and the two walked down the hall and into another elevator.

"Bridge," the Doctor commanded. The walls began to hum and the the lights moved, but Spike still felt like he was standing still. The sensation, or rather lack there of, was a little disorienting.

"I have to admit I'm impressed, Doc," Spiked said after a minute or so of silence, "A voice activated elevator is pretty cool."

"It's not strictly an elevator," the Doctor said, "Elevators only go up and down-"

Spike cut him off, "But the Wanker-vator can go sideways and slantways and longways and blah blah blah."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

Spike was about to explain the reference, but at that moment the door opened. The brightly lit room Spike saw instantly made him nervous. Every available space seemed to be taken up by a control panel. Just under a dozen men and women stood at various displays, all wearing the same uniform as the Doctor. As he stepped off the elevator, all eyes turned to Spike.

He turned his head slowly, trying to take in the whole room. At what he thought must be the front of the room, a large screen took up most of the wall. Dominating the screen was Earth. Spike felt a pang of longing at the site. A small part of him knew that it wasn't the same Earth he remembered, but the rest of him didn't care. It was Earth and he wanted to be back there.

The sound of his name broke him from his thoughts and the turned to see the Doctor motioning him toward a door on the other end of the room. Spike took a second to shake off the sensation then followed to the door. He was surprised when it didn't open automatically like every other door he had seen so far.

The Doctor pressed his thumb against the miniature control panel on the wall to the side of the door. The panel chimed and, almost instantly, the captain's voice sounded from it.

"Come in," he said, and with that, the door slid open. The Doctor stepped in and Spike followed. The room was relatively small. What looked like a rather spartan bed sat in the corner below some shelves built into the wall. The selves held what looked like various books and knickknacks. A stone obelisk sat in a corner behind a desk. Riker sat at the desk and motioned for the two to sit. They did so in the two chairs before the desk. Spike held the container in his lap.

"What did you want to see me about, Spike?" Riker asked.

Spike responded by working the dial of the lock until it clicked open. He reached in and pulled out the lone sheet of paper it contained.

He lifted the delicate paper gingerly and read, "'When humanity is seeded among the stars, they and their allies shall face a threat so great that if not stopped, will engulf all of reality in it's evil. This evil will send robotic demons disguised as one of humanity's oldest enemies calling for peace'," He looked up from the paper, "I'm pretty sure that was the romulans the Doctor told me about."

Riker gave the Doctor a reproachful look, but Spike ignored it and continued, "'The Vampire with a Soul', that's me, 'must sacrifice his future to help a reluctant captain,' that's you," Spike indicated Riker, "'a doctor made of light,' and him," Spike indicated the Doctor, "'Save all that is and all that will be, or he will spend his existence burning in the fires of hell.'"

Riker sat back, looking a little confused. After a moment, he held his hand out and asked to see the paper.

"Yeah, just be careful with it," Spike said, gently handing it over. Riker took it carefully in both hands and placed it flat on his desk. He read over the prophecy for a few minutes.

"Are you sure this is real?" Riker asked.

Spike shrugged, "As sure as I can be. I was there when it was given."

"Doctor?" Riker asked.

"This is the first I've heard of it," the Doctor replied, "But I must admit it is troubling. If it is real, then we have an enormous responsibility here. According to that, all of reality might depend on us."

Riker chuckled as he leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard, "It's not first time I've been told that. All right, Spike. Tell me about this prophecy.

* * *

AN: Again, please review. I really want to know how I'm doing.


	11. Way Back When

Spike sat in a coffee shop in London, trying hard to forget her. He knew that she would never be with him. She loved Angel and he was human now. That bloody wanker got to be human even though he signed away that right in blood. He was made human as a bloody _punishment._ Spike drank his coffee and tried to forget about the way she looked and the way she smelled and that cute little pout she had. Looking down at his coffee, he realized that he really ought to be in a pub trying to drown his sorrows.

Spike looked up and vaguely wondered why he was even here. When he saw the sign for the shop, he couldn't help but step in and sit down. Once inside, a latte sounded nice. He looked around again and realized that he didn't want to be here. He was just about to stand when a voice behind him caught his attention.

"You're a hard man to find," she said, "It took me three weeks to get that spell to lock on to you."

Spike smiled humorlessly, "That's what made me come inside, isn't it? Any bloke worth his bullocks is gonna drown his sorrows in beer, and here I am drinking a damn latte."

"It isn't so bad, is it?" she said, her voice laced with mirth, "There's nothing like a latte on a cold night."

Spike chuckled and shook his had, "I suppose you're right. So what is it you want with me. I'm pretty sure you didn't come here to talk about the old days."

"I need your help, Spike," she implored, "Lets go somewhere to talk."

Spike drank the last of his coffee, stood, and turned around coming face to face with Willow Rosenberg.

* * *

The two stood atop the clock tower overlooking London. Spike had taken a minute after they landed, sure he was going to be sick after holding desperately to the flying witch. Finally sure that he wasn't going to hurl, Spike leaned against the wall.

Willow stood looking out over the city. A bank of ominous clouds rolled slowly over the cityscape; a fairly common sight in London. Something was different about her. The normally uncertain geek stood with the bearing and authority of someone well beyond her years. He straitened and cautiously approached the edge where she stood. Standing there in jeans and a white blouse, with the wind lifting her red hair slightly off of her shoulders, Spike admitted to himself that, in that moment, she was very attractive. As his eyes lingered on the shape of her neck and how it flowed gracefully into her shoulders, Spike allowed himself the briefest of inappropriate thoughts.

"Spike!" Willow's face suddenly turned bright red, "My goodness, that's terrible. If Kennedy ever found out you thought that about me, she'd slay you for sure."

"It's not me, Pet," Spike said thoughtfully, "It's you. You've changed. I'm certainly not the only one with passing thoughts about you."

"Well no," she admitted, "But most people aren't quite as … detailed as you."

Spike laughed. It was the first real laugh he'd had since he and Illyria had parted ways. He'd been alone, truly alone for so long. It hit him that as a soulless vampire, that wouldn't have bothered him. But now, he realized he missed the scoobies.

"When did you learn to read minds?" he asked.

"Not long ago. Luckily, because of Buffy's experience our senior year, I was a little more prepared. I pick up surface thoughts whenever I'm close enough to someone. I can usually ignore it, especially in crowds. It's like white noise. But it's a lot harder to ignore if there's only one person around. It can get a little awkward though," Willow smiled to herself, blushing again, "I caught Buffy staring at my butt and wondering what I look like naked."

Spike's eyebrows shot up, "Buffy? You sure you weren't getting someone else's thoughts?"

Willow shot him a confused look, then realization colored her features, "Oh, you weren't there for Satsu."

"Satsu?" Spike asked.

Willow chuckled, "Yeah, Buffy had a fling with one of the other slayers. Her name is Satsu. Ever since then, she's started to notice other women's … features. I don't think she'll ever bat for my team again, but it's still funny to see her struggle with new and interesting urges."

Thoughts of Buffy flooded Spike's mind. He turned away from Willow and wandered back over to the wall. Some how, it didn't seem fair. He loved her, he gave up everything for her, sacrificed what he thought was going to be his very existence for her, and every one else including, apparently, the other slayers, were getting their shot her. A profound emptiness settled over him as he finally, truly, and completely accepted that he would never have her. Mentally, he closed the book on them. He could almost hear the _thud_ a cover being closed on a heavy volume.

He turned around to see Willow standing right in front of him. She had apparently followed him. He could see the look of sympathy on her face, but was still surprised when she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Spike resisted for only a moment before her put his arms around her shoulders. He allowed himself to be swept up in the comfort of a friend's sympathy. It seemed funny to him that Willow would be the one with her arms around him, trying to drive away the depression that threatened to consume him.

While they held each other, thunder crashed across the sky. Spike noticed that Willow hadn't jumped in surprised, despite the sudden intense sound. Then, as if someone in the heavens had turned a knob, the sky instantly began pouring sheets of rain. As the rain soaked them both, a shivering Willow pulled slightly away from Spike, allowing them to look at each other. He put a hand to her face. The rain had soaked her blouse, making visible her pink bra underneath. Willow's damp hair clung to her face and little droplets dripped from her eyelashes.

"You really are quite beautiful," Spike said, "Especially in the rain."

She fought a grin, forcing a scowl onto her face. She put her index finger to his chest.

"Hey now, Mr. Sexy-blond-vampire," She said, "Gay, remember? Slayer girlfriend, _remember_?"

Spike closed his eyes and recalled some of his more violent love making nights with Buffy. Only he allowed this theater in his mind to feature Willow instead of the blond slayer. Willow suddenly gasped and pulled away. Spike opened his eyes to see her hands desperately trying to cover her glowing face. He laughed out loud, pleased with himself for turning her own ability against her.

"Better try harder to block it, Love," Spike laughed, "You never know what you'll see."

"SPIKE!" Willow yelled through her hands, "Oh my Goddess! Why would you do that?"

Spike was still laughing as he pulled off his coat and walked up to her, "Consider that pay back for forcing my ruddy bum to fly up here. I'm not bloody Super Man. Now here, put this on." He started to put the coat around her shoulders, but she tried to wiggle away.

"I'm fine," she protested.

"No you're not," he responded seriously, "You're wet and shivering. This is water proof and it's warm. Now put the bloody thing on."

She relented and allowed him to slip the coat on her shoulders. She put her arms in the sleeves as he buttoned it in front and could see an immediate difference. He put an arm around her and guided her to the canopy of one of the windows.

"I guess the roof of the tallest clock tower in England wasn't best place for a meeting." Willow said through chattering teeth, "I guess I was trying to be all dramatic by coming up to Big Ben."

Spike smiled again, "Actually, Big Ben isn't the tower, it's not even the clock. It's the bell."

She laughed, "That's normally the kind of thing I correct people on."

"And now you can," Spike said, "Now, you wanna tell me what this is all about?"

Willow nodded. Before going on however, she took a deep breath and he could tell that she was preparing to tell him something that he wasn't going to like.

"Spike, I've reached a point in my … growth, I guess you could call it. I am going to start doing things that seem unnatural and scary."

Spike scoffed, "The witch said to the vampire with the soul?"

Willow laughed nervously, "Right. Well one of the things that I'm going to start doing is giving prophecy. My first prophecy is going to be about you, and I know that you're not going to like it."

Spike's brow furrowed, "You know what it's about already?"

"Bits and pieces," she answered, "It's like when you wake up from a really scary dream and you can't quite remember what it was about, but you know it was scary because of the heart pounding and the heavy breathing. Then, later in the day, you start to remember parts of it, but you still don't have the whole picture. You try to remember it even though it was scary, then Buffy tells you to quit worrying about it. Kinda like that. I can feel it growing inside me. All I know for right now is that it's about you and that if you don't fulfill it, you'll burn in hell."

"I've been to hell before, Love," he said, "It's not so bad. I was Lord of Beverly Hills for a while."

"Not like this. Spike, I know what will happen to you. Not just the words, but the actual meaning." Willow's eyes began to tear up, "Spike, I don't want the burny, hell-fiery things to happen to you. I know you deserve better than that. You've been through so much." She started to cry against his shirt. Spike once again found himself putting his arms around her shoulders, only this time, he was comforting her.

"Relax pet," he whispered, "I was only kidding. Trust me, I want to keep out of hell." He grabbed her shoulders and gently pushed her away a few inches. "Listen, its almost sun up. It looks like you could use some sleep; I know I could."

She nodded, "I have a room at the Mandarin Oriental."

* * *

Spike and Willow walked through the double doors being held open by uniformed doormen and into the immense lobby of the upscale hotel. Spike had seen posh before, but this was a bit ridiculous. A uniformed bellman inside greeted them both with a smile. The corner of his mouth twitched when he saw Spike and his smile almost faltered when he saw Willow wearing Spike's coat.

"Good evening Ms. Rosenberg," he said with enthusiasm, "It seems you've been caught out in the rain. Perhaps next time you'll take an umbrella like I suggested."

Willow smiled at the ribbing, "Thank you, Reg, I will."

Reg looked to Spike, "And who is this handsome gentleman?"

"Oh," Willow said, caught off guard. Apparently, she hadn't considered what to tell the staff. "This is, uh, this is-"

"Pratt," Spike interrupted, "William Pratt. I used to work with Willow back in the states." Spike held out his hand and Reg took it and shook it firmly.

"Well my name is Reginald," he said, taking a business card out of his pocket and presenting it to Spike with a thumb and forefinger on each of the top two corners in a very formal manner, "Call me if you need absolutely anything, and I'll be happy to help."

Spike took the card and stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans. He was about to walk to the elevator but Willow reached under his coat, which she was still wearing, and pulled out some bills.

"William would like a beer," she said handing him the bills, "And I would like a glass of wine, any Bordeaux you have would be fine."

"Any beer in particular for you, Mr. Pratt?" Reg asked.

"No, just a couple of bottles of anything draft," Spike answered.

"Very good sir," the bellman said, "I will be up with it shortly."

Willow thanked him and the two walked toward the elevator. Spike pressed the button.

"I just thought of something funny," Reg said from behind them. They both turned and face him. "Your names are Will and Will. You could be a sitcom on the telly."

Willow snorted and Spike gave a half-hearted smile. The door opened and the two stepped in. After the door slid shut, Spike said, "He fancies you, you know that right. He didn't like it at all when we showed up together and you were wearing my coat."

"I know," Willow said, "He thinks you're some guy I picked up at a bar for sex."

* * *

Willow used a key card to open the door. The suite was enormous. The main room had a fireplace with a large ornate rug on one wall, a couch sat in front of a giant flat screen television against the other wall, and a window with the shades drawn taking up the entire third wall. As they stepped in, Spike let out a low whistle. He turned in a full circle, taking in the whole room.

"I gotta admit, Love," he said, "I'm impressed. I didn't think the tweed patrol at the Watcher's Council would spring for such fancy digs."

Willow smiled over her shoulder as she took off his coat, "They didn't. This was paid for by my coven."

She tossed the coat over the back of the couch and walked to the double doors next to the fireplace. As she opened them, Spike called after her, "I guess I'll be taking the couch, then?"

"Don't be silly," she called from in the room, "The other door leads to another bedroom."

Spike turned around and walked to the door on the other side of the room. Inside, the window from the main room continued along the outside wall. A queen size bed with extremely comfortable looking down pillows was against the far wall, facing a flat screen TV almost as large as the one in the main room. The decorations were light; off-white walls, white carpet. The furniture had a very sleek and modern feel to it, with polished wood and sharp angles. It all made Spike decidedly uneasy.

"Your coven must be drowning in cash to put just you up in a place like this," Spike yelled to Willow.

Her soft footfalls approached his door. "Actually, they didn't," she said, "We were all here until earlier this evening. The spell that drew you into that coffee shop took a lot of power. When we found you, they packed up while I went to retrieve you."

Spike finally turned to face her and immediately started laughing. Willow stood in the doorway wearing full length pajamas with little cartoon dogs and cats printed all over them. He shook his head at the sight, unable to believe that even after all these years, she was the same old Willow.

She looked down at herself and scowled when she realized what he was laughing at. "Hey at least I have clothes," she huffed, "Unlike a certain vampire I know who I've only ever seen in one outfit since my junior year in high school."

Spike laughed again, sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulled his wet shirt off over his head and draped it over one of the chairs. He then bent to pull off his boots. He had just gotten the second one off when a knock sounded at the door.

"Ms. Rosenberg, Mr. Pratt," a muffled voice called, "It's Reginald. I have your drinks."

A confused look covered Willow's face.

"What's a matter?" Spike asked.

"I should have heard him coming," Willow said. She looked at the door for a second, then looked at Spike and shrugged. She started to walk toward the door, but Spike was on his feet and in front of her in an instant. He put his finger to his lips and made very clear in his mind his concern and desire to answer the door in her place. She nodded and moved behind the wall of the bedroom.

Spike casually walked over to the door an threw it wide. Reg wheeled in a small cart with a an ice bucket that held three bottles of beer. Next to the bucket was a bottle of wine and an upside down wine glass.

"Hello Mr. Pratt," Reg said, "I have your drinks. I can pour the wine for Ms. Rosenberg if you would like."

"That's alright, she's in the shower," Spiked lied as he pulled a few bills from his pocket, "I'll do the honors when she's all squeaky clean."

He held out the bills for the bellman. Rather than take them, Reg suddenly grabbed Spike's arm. With his other hand, he gripped the vampire's throat and tossed him into the wall. Spike tried to clear his vision, but the bellman was on him instantly. With one hand, he held Spike by the hair and lifted the vampire off his feet.

"I do not hear the water, Vampire," Reg hissed in a voice not his own, "Where is she."

Reg suddenly dropped Spike, putting his hands to his own throat. Spike could hear Willow's soft foot falls on the carpet as she stepped out of the side room. He looked in her direction and saw her walking toward Reg with her hand out, her eyes black as coal.

"She's right here," the witch said, her voice deep and unnatural, "And you're going to tell her exactly what you are and what you want."

"Never!" Reg choked out, "You have no power over me, Witch!"

Willow smirked, "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

The bellman lifted off of his feet and hovered a few feet off the ground. His whole body began to compress as though a giant hand were squeezing him. He cried out in pain and terror, but even over his screams, Spike could hear bones snapping.

"Last chance," Willow said.

"N-never," the thing stammered. With a last wet squish, it collapsed inward and dropped to the floor.

Spike finally managed to get to his feet. He walked over to the corpse, examining it as best he could. It looked, and more importantly, smelled human.

"What was that all about?" Spike asked.

Willow, her eyes back to their normal forest green, shook her head, "I have no idea."


	12. Way Back When: Part 2

AN: I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I was haveing some compositional issues with it, then we had renfair this past weekend. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"Hold on," Riker said, "This bellman just attacked without cause?"

Spike was slightly annoyed at the question, but Riker and the Doctor had been patiently listening the whole time. This was the first time either one had interrupted. Spike leaned forward and put his hands on the desk, trying to emphasize his point.

"You're not getting it, mate," he said in a very matter of fact tone, "He had cause. He was looking to stop Willow from giving this prophecy."

"And this is the prophecy that you read us earlier?" The Doctor interjected.

"Yeah, only this is-"Spike stopped himself mid sentence, "Look, there's more to the story."

Riker held up a finger to forestall him. "Before you continue, I want to bring Admiral Picard in on this conversation," he tapped the badge on his chest, "Riker to Picard."

Nothing happened.

Riker touched his badge again, "Riker to Picard, Please respond."

Again nothing.

"Computer, locate Admiral Picard," Riker commanded.

Spike was starting to recognize the female voice of the computer. "Admiral Picard's current location is classified."

All three men looked at each other in confusion. Riker tried a different track, "Computer, is Picard on the ship?"

"Affirmative."

Riker huffed "Computer, what level clearance is the classification?"

"That information is classified," the computer responded.

"We can't even know the clearance level?" Riker yelled in frustration.

"Negative," came the response, "You do not posses the necessary level of clearance."

Riker rubbed his temples, "What level of clearance would I need to be granted that information?"

"That information is classified," the computer said again.

Spike snickered, "Should of seen that one coming, mate."

Riker shot Spike a smirk, "Yes I suppose I should have."

"Computer, have any of Admiral Picard's vitals gone outside of normal range?" the Doctor asked.

The computer chimed twice, apparently gathering the information, "Negative, Admiral Picard's vitals are within normal levels."

Riker leaned back in his chair, "Well, until the Admiral becomes available again, I guess we should just continue. Spike?"

Spike nodded picked up where he left off.

* * *

Spike looked over his shoulder. "'I find your lack of faith disturbing'?" he quoted in a questioning tone.

Willow grinned. "Sorry," she said, "Too much time with Xander."

Spike shook his head. He turned his attention back to the corpse on the floor and knelt beside it. He dipped his finger in the spreading pool of blood and brought his wet fingers to his nose. The blood smelled human, but there was something else, something not quite right. Tasting it, he realized that it didn't have the metallic quality that human's blood did.

"He's not human," Spike stated

"Well, duh," Willow said from behind him. He stood and turned to face her.

"Sorry," She said, turning red and avoiding his eyes. A knock came from the still open front door. They both turned to see a very confused Reg standing with a cart identical to the one that the imposter had brought in. His confusion changed to horror when he saw the body.

Willow put up her hands and walked slowly toward him. "Easy, Reg," she said in a soothing voice, "Calm down. This isn't what you think."

He looked at her, his face still twisted, "How the bloody hell do you know what I think?"

Willow continued to advance, "Because I can read your mind."

"Wha-" Reg seemed unable to finish the thought. Willow chanced a glance over her shoulder and gestured toward the body.

"Look at his face, Reg," she said.

His eyes focused over her shoulder at the body. Willow moved swiftly to his side an instant before he fainted. She caught him on his way to the floor, but was unable to hold him up. She instead controlled his fall so that he didn't hurt himself.

Spike stood, "We need to get out of here."

Willow held up a finger, "Not yet, Spike. I need to be sure he's okay and get someone to clean up this yuk."

Spike was instantly on her. He grabbed her upper arms and lifted her to her feet. "We don't have time for that!" he whispered through gritted teeth. Her arms suddenly burned his hands, like touching a cross. He let go. The instant he did, an unseen force knocked him back several feet. Willow stared him down, the abyss of her black eyes freezing him in place.

"I know you still think of me as the timid little red head who hung around with Buffy," she said, her voice laced with dark magic, "But I have been doing this for a long time. I know what I'm doing, okay?"

"Okay, love," he said slowly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. We'll do it your way."

The deep blackness receded into her pupils, uncovering her normal, green irises. She smiled. "Good. I need to call Xander. The Watcher's Council has demon-goo-cleaner-uppers. I'll be right back."

As Willow walked out of the room, Spike held his breath until she had disappeared completely. He decided that he needed to be more careful around her in the future. Realizing that they weren't going to stay the night in the hotel, Spike went to the bedroom, grabbed his still damp shirt and pulled it on. He was pulling on his boots when Willow walked in.

"Xander sent some cleaner-upper-people," she said, "He also has a plane at the airport waiting for us. My coven is based in Rome. I think we should make our way there."

Spike could see the insecurity in her eyes. She looked at her phone for a while, and her eyes began to tear up. He stood and walked over to her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm not cut out for this, Spike," she whined, "I'm supposed to be in charge of a coven, the most powerful coven in the world, but I can't even get a little mess cleaned up. I have to go running to the Slayers and the Watchers every time there's a tinsy bit of trouble."

"Hey now," Spike said, trying to reassure her, "You found me didn't you."

She exploded, "I should have found you weeks ago. It wasn't my spell that found you. It was Debbie's. Spike, I think my coven is losing faith in me."

Trying a different track, he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. He eyes went wide with surprise. "Come on, you worthless little twit," he yelled, "Where's that uber-powerful witch I just saw?"

Her face relaxed into a dead calm as the black of her pupils bled over the rest of her eyes. "You want a powerful witch, Vampire?"

Spike released her. "Yeah, that's what we need right now. That, right there is proof that you deserve your position. Everybody needs help every now and then." The words came out faster and more frantic than he had intended. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but she scared him.

"Very well," she said, her eyes retaining the abyss, "Let's get moving."

* * *

They had to rush to get to the airport before sun up. Spike was sure they had only made it because of the cloud cover. The plane wasn't big, but it was fancy, with twin jet engines and the name "Knight Enterprises" panted in red on the hull. A man in captain's blues stood at the base of the stairs, awaiting their arrival.

"Willow," he said, reaching out for her, "How are you?"

"Good, Dominic. I'm good," she answered, embracing him, "How is Xander?"

Dominic smiled as he followed them into the small plane, "He's good. He told me to tell you that he misses you and, how did he put it? 'Get your slayer-loving-witchy-butt down here once in a while."

They both laughed and Spike rolled his eyes. The interior of the plane was a testament to luxury. Two small beds with satin sheets sat on either side of the cabin and large plush chairs facing each other from the heads of the beds.

"What's with the company name I saw on the side of the jet?" Spike asked.

Dominic answered his question as he moved to the front of the plane, "Dummy company. The council set it up as a cover for our various bases and for moving slayers around the world. The company itself is private, so there are no 'share holders' and we have a very large team of lawyers and accountants keeping things looking on the up and up."

Spike sat in one of the two chairs as Dominic strapped himself into the pilot's seat. Willow sat in the other and started to strap herself in.

"Spike," she said, "I know this is hard, but we've been through worse. I mean, just think about Glory, or the First. You were all ghosty for a while, but we all made it through okay."

"Not all of us, Pet," Spike said, "You ever hear what happened to Fred?"

Her eyes widened, "Is she…dead?"

He shook his head, "Not just dead. Gone. Completely. Her soul got eaten by a big bad known as Illyria. It's a long story, but the short version is that it used her to resurrect itself. Illyria still has her memories, and occasionally will become her, but it's not her, not really."

The plane began to accelerate down the runway, gathering speed for takeoff. He looked at the witch, her face gone white. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally answered, "Spike, that's…that's awful. I'm so sorry."

Spike waved off the apology as the plane began to make its accent, "It was a long time ago. I imagine you guys probably got quite a few gravestones over the last couple of years."

Willow nodded, "Yes, we have. Dozens of watchers, countless slayers. We even lost Faith a few months back."

The vampire did a double take when she said the name. He remembered the brunette slayer from the final battle of Sunnydale. The two had started to become friends, but the whole thing had gone by so quickly, and after coming back incorporeal at Wolfram and Hart, she had been about the furthest thing from his mind. Now, hearing that she was dead, he felt sudden regret at not trying to contact her after becoming corporeal. He'd always assumed that she would be with Buffy and the Mini-Slayers.

"What happened?" He heard himself ask.

"Giles took her on a mission to stop some demon-y threat," She said, her voice empty and hollow, "The thing escaped to its own hell dimension, and took her with it." Spike stood up straight to say that there might still be hope, but Willow was already shaking her head. "Giles did everything he could, but even if he had been able to open the portal, time moves differently in that place. One day to us would be like a year there. By the time we found out, she would have been long dead from old age, if she'd been able to survive that long."

Spike slumped in his seat. Too many good people had been lost in this war, and for what? To save a bunch of ungrateful humans from themselves. He knew he should just forget it all, go live out his unlife somewhere and let the humans get swallowed by whatever evil came next. Yet here he was, flying to Rome to meet a bunch of witches to hear a prophecy about him and saving the world.

"I need to be banjo'd," he decided. He looked to the pilot, "You got any booze on this plane?"

Dominic reached into his pocket and pulled out a half full bottle of Jack Daniel's and handed it to Spike. The vampire took it, unscrewed the cap and took a long swig.

"You keep booze on you when you're flying," Willow asked, clearly shocked.

"Of course," Dominic said, smiling, "I used to fly for Delta."

* * *

The plane landed at Leonardo Da' Vinci airport and Spike (wrapped up in a blanket) climbed into a car with Willow and Dominic. They made their way through the winding roads and ancient cobblestone streets to a small, out of the way church. Spike, still wrapped in a blanket, was guided inside. When he finally uncovered himself, he found himself facing several women of ranging in age from young teenagers to sweet grandmotherly types.

"This is him?" one of the older ones asked, "I wasn't expecting a Billy Idol look alike."

"Who's Billy Idol?" a younger one asked.

"Never mind," Willow interjected, "This is him, the only vampire on earth currently in possession of a shiny, new soul."

"Not exactly new," Spike muttered.

"Are you sure?" one of the others asked. Something about this woman's eyes bothered Spike. They almost seemed to be hiding something, as though something malicious were lurking just beneath the surface.

"I'm sure Debbie," Willow answered, "I keep seeing his face whenever I think about the prophecy."

A younger witch, maybe eighteen, stepped forward and tapped Willow on the shoulder, "We've prepared the sleep spell and we're ready to draw out the prophecy."

"Thank you, Lacey. I think I've carried around this prophecy long enough. Spike, you'll need to watch this. None of us is totally sure what's going to happen."

* * *

Spike stood in the shadows in the back of one of the chapels in the church. Willow was at the front, directly below a statue of the Virgin Mary suckling Baby Jesus. She wore a simple, floor length, white gown with long sleeves. An older witch lit a bowl of incense and handed it to Willow, who took it and breathed in the smoke.

Even from the back, Spike could see her eyes turn coal black and the veins in her face become more pronounced. She let go of the bowl, but it didn't drop. It floated in mid-air to a shelf in the wall. She opened her mouth and light exploded out, shining directly on Spike.

"Step forward, Vampire," She said in a voice not her own. It was deep and masculine, as though something were speaking through the witch. Spike did as command.

"These next words are for you, Vampire. Hear them well. When humanity is seeded among the stars, they and their allies shall face a threat so great that if not stopped, will engulf all of reality in its evil. This evil will send robotic demons disguised as one of humanity's oldest enemies calling for peace. The Vampire with a Soul must sacrifice his future to help a reluctant captain and a doctor made of light save all that is and all that will be, or he will spend his existence burning in the fires of hell."

Spike felt his stomach drop. After all that he had done, everything that he had sacrificed, he had to give up the little bit that he had managed to keep. If he didn't, none of it would matter. He would find himself in hell, and this time he wouldn't be able to declare himself lord of Beverly Hills.

"And now you must sleep," Willow said, "When you awake, you will be where and when you need to be."

"Horse Hockey!" Spike yelled, "I don't get any more then that?"

Willow, or whatever had a hold of Willow, shook her head, "There are no more words to the prophecy."

"Bullocks!" Spike shouted, even louder this time, "If you expect me to give up everything, I need more sodding help than that."

"You will be given more," the thing said, "but not in the form words. You will know what to do when the time comes." Willow's hand came up and covered his eyes. "Now sleep."

* * *

"When I came to," Spike said, "I was naked and lying on the alter. Willow showed me the trunk and that container. She told me the combo so I would remember it when I woke up. The witches said some magic words and now, here I am. The whole thing seemed a little dodgy to me, but I really wasn't given much choice."

Riker considered him for a moment, "You actually believe this, that these women were witches with magical powers and that this is a real prophecy."

Spike pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Mate, I'm only going to say this one more time. I. AM. A. VAMPIRE!"

Riker threw up his hands, "Sorry, it's just that this is a little far fetched."

The Doctor started to speak but was interrupted by Admiral Picard's voice over the intercom, "Picard to Riker."

Riker tapped his badge, "Riker here, Sir. It's good to hear from you. Where were you?"


	13. What Happened Out There?: Part 3

A/N: I'm sorry it has been so long. October is a very busy month for me.

* * *

Picard's brow furrowed. Benjamin was sure that even with his clearance, the admiral wouldn't have heard of 'Project: Jumper'. It had been top secret from its inception. Benjamin wasn't even sure all the big wigs from the Federation knew about it.

"Project: Jumper is a top secret attempt to create a stable worm hole generator. If it works, it will change space travel as we know it. Think about it; instantaneous travel to anywhere in the galaxy. We could finally give serious thought to exploring the Delta Quadrant. We could meet thousands of new species and expand the Federation's reach to previously unimagined of levels."

Picard's next question was obvious, "What does this have to do with what happened in the Neutral Zone?"

Siegel decided to jump in, "As you know, the Davenport was the most advanced science vessel that the Federation had. That's why we were sent into the Neutral Zone. It was also going to be the test ship for the Jumper Drive."

"You think that these creatures, whatever they are, were after it," Picard surmised.

Benjamin nodded, "We know they were. They have it."

Picard paled slightly. Clearing his throat, he stood and walked over to a replicator in the wall opposite the window. "Earl Grey, hot," he ordered. The replicator hummed, providing the requested beverage. Grabbing his tea, he found his seat once again. He took a long sip from the cup.

"Perhaps you should tell me what happened after the Enterprise left you in the nebula."

* * *

"Sir," Lieutenant Johnson, the ops officer called, "We're getting a message from the Enterprise. It says they're going to chase the Kothre, and we're to stay put."

Benjamin shook his head. _Figures,_ he thought, _He's not going to let Donotra get away with his wife._ The young captain got out of his chair and looked over Johnson's shoulder. He pointed to a readout, "I want continuous scans of the area, every method we have available." The lieutenant nodded.

Benjamin walked toward the turbo lift at the back of the bridge. "I'll be in engineering. Johnson, you have the bridge."

Johnson nodded, "Aye Sir."

"Engineering," Benjamin commanded as the doors closed behind him. The turbo lift dutifully moved in response. Something wasn't right. The Kothre couldn't be acting alone. Based on the sensor readings, the ship was at least ten years old, if not older. There was no way it could stand up to the might of a Sovereign Class Starship. Donotra said something about being 'collected'. Did that mean more ships were on the way?

A voice interrupted his thoughts. "Johnson to Benjamin."

"Benjamin here," he answered.

"Sir, there are two ships entering the nebula."

"Romulan?" he asked.

"Definitely not, Captain," Johnson answered, "I've never seen anything like this before. Well one thing sort of like it, but it can't possibly be, I mean it could bu-"

"Spit it out Johnson!" Benjamin interrupted. He normally would have allowed the man to get to the point on his own, but right now, he didn't have that kind of time.

"Sorry sir. It looks … Borg."

"Red Alert! Archer, get us out of here!"

"Aye Sir," the helmsman responded.

A sudden force rocked the turbo lift, nearly knocking Benjamin from his feet. The lights flickered for a moment before going out. The gentle hum of the turbo lift moving had been silenced. _Great!_ Benjamin thought, _looks like a long crawl through the Jeffery's Tubes._ He dropped to his knees and began feeling around for the latch that would open the floor panel and allow him to escape.

His hand brushed the cool metal latch just as the lift rocked hard again. The lights flickered again, but didn't come on. Thankfully, the low hum of movement did start up again. Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief. His journey through the narrow tubes in the bowls of the ship was officially canceled.

* * *

As Captain Benjamin entered Main Engineering, the red alert alarms were going off and red indicator lights flashed all around him.

"Ellison," Benjamin called, "Report."

The chief engineer looked up from his pad. "Shields are holding, barely. I don't think their coming at us full power though," he showed Benjamin the pad in his hand and pointed to one of the read outs, "You see here the weapon configuration, and what our shields have sustained so far. It doesn't mesh."

He tapped a control on the wall and brought up a display of the forward sensors. The image filled the panel on the wall. Several ships moved in and out of view. They were spherical, like one of the smaller Borg ships, but four long, narrow projections jutted out from the center. The ship resembled, in the captain's opinion, a large insect.

Benjamin tapped his badge, "Johnson, have the ships tried to hail us?"

"No sir," Johnson replied, "Every time we've moved to leave the nebula, they cut us off. They've been firing sporadically, but nothing major has been damaged so far."

_They're herding us like a sheep,_ the captain thought, _but why?_

Something suddenly occurred to him, a thought that caused his stomach to drop into his feet. They were after the jumper drive. They weren't going to destroy the ship until they could force the shields to drop and take the drive. But how did they know about. Only three people on the ship knew about the drive; Benjamin, Ellison, and Siegel. They were supposed to be the only ones outside of Starfleet Command who knew about the project's existence.

"Ellison," Benjamin said, keeping his voice low, "We have a way to transport the … device safely? From ship to ship without revealing it?"

The engineer smiled, "Of course we do, Captain. We have separate cases for the drive and for the power source. They're shielded against transporters and sensors. Once closed, they can only be opened by you and Commander Siegel."

Benjamin nodded, "No matter what happens, we can't let them take the drive. Even if we lose this ship, we need to keep it out of their hands."

Ellison smirked, but his eyes were deadly serious. "I understand, Captain."

Taking his icy glare from Benjamin, the engineer went to one of the equipment lockers and pressed his thumb to the pad. The computer quickly red his thumb print and DNA, popping open when it cleared him as authorized. Inside were the two cases he had spoken of. Ellison grabbed them both and handed one to Benjamin.

"Come on sir," he said, "It's in the Main Deflector."

* * *

"You grab the power source, Sir," Ellison said as they entered the Main Deflector access room, "It's much easier to disconnect. I'll get the drive from the main defector."

Benjamin grabbed the case and moved to where the experimental power source was plugged in and began typing in commands to unplug it.

"Are you saying that I don't know what I'm doing?" he asked sarcastically over his shoulder.

Ellison smirked without looking up, "That's exactly what I'm saying."

The lock holding the power source in place gave a loud _click_ as it unlatched. Benjamin pulled away the wire and lifted it carefully into the container. The soft, gel filled, plastic lining hugged the exterior of the machine, securing it in place. He closed the lid and heard _click_ and _hiss_ of the pressure lock sealing.

"How's it coming, Ellison?" he asked.

"Almost-" he paused, "Got it! I'll get it in the case and-"

The comm chirped, "Johnson to Benjamin, Our shields are down. We're getting transporter signals from the enemy ships."

Before he could digest the information, Benjamin saw a form materialize just behind Ellison. It looked vaguely humanoid, but with no discernible features; just a flat face with two slits where a nose should have been and no hair. It wore no clothing over its white skin, though it didn't appear to have any genitals to cover. The engineer turned just in time for the thing to grab his neck. With an awful _SNAP_, Ellison's neck broke. The thing dropped his body, grabbed the unplugged drive in both hands, and disappeared within a transporter beam.

In the space of a second, Benjamin felt an eternity pass. Whatever these things were, they clearly had hostile intent, and now they had something that would allow them to be everywhere at once. No one had ever seen them before, yet they seemed determined to get their hands on the jumper drive. Given the violent nature of first contact, Benjamin was certain they meant the Federation harm, and now they possessed the means to cause that harm.

A blast suddenly rocked the ship and Benjamin was knocked from his feet once more. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what had happened to the sense of balance he prided himself on.

"Engineering to Commander Ellison," a voice called over the comm.

Benjamin tapped his badge, "This is the captain. I'm afraid Commander Ellison has been killed. What did you need?"

The person on the other end seemed stunned, "Sir, I-I'm sorry to hear that-"

"What is it?" Benjamin interrupted. He didn't have time for shock or grieving at the moment.

"Sorry Sir," he said, "The warp core is overheating. We can't take another-"

He was cut off by another blast. This time, the shaking didn't stop for a full ten seconds. Several of the panels in the room sparked and exploded.

The computer's voice sounded, "Warning: Warp core breach is imminent."

"Benjamin to Engineering! What the hell is going on?" Benjamin yelled over the noise of his ship falling apart.

"We can't eject the core, Sir!" Lieutenant Rilly called, "The controls are locked!"

"Bridge to the captain," Johnson called, "The Enterprise is back. They've destroyed one of the enemy ships."

_Please let it be the one carrying the drive,_ Benjamin thought, letting go of a relieved sigh. "Send a message telling them that our warp core is about to breach," he said "And then give the order to abandon ship."

* * *

"We abandoned ship and the Enterprise picked up our pods," Benjamin finished his story, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach at the thought of the lives lost, lives that he was supposed to be responsible for.

Picard nodded solemnly, taking another sip of his tea. He set his now empty cup down and studied the two younger officers.

"I want you to know," Picard said in a somber voice, though with no less authority, "I understand your reaction to Caption Riker's decision. I'd imagine that you've gone over that scenario in your head a thousand times, trying to find what you could have done differently."

The young captain looked at his hands on the table as he fought back the growing lump in his throat. When he finally felt in control, he looked back at the admiral and nodded, still not able to find his voice. All of the weight of his responsibility came crashing down in a sudden rush. The strain caused him to suddenly exhale and visibly crumple.

"Losing people under your command is never easy," Picard said flatly, "But it is part of being a captain. I recommend speaking to the ship's councilor when you have some free time. It might help."

Benjamin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Feeling his emotional walls slide back into place, he regained his posture, nodded to Picard, and said, "Yes Sir."

"Now, you mentioned another piece of equipment, a power source?" Picard asked.

Siegel nodded, "The drive consumes way to much power for a standard anti-matter core to handle. In order to power it, they had to create a whole new way to power it. I'm afraid that we don't really understand how it works. Ellison was the expert."

Picard's eyebrows rose, "And you still have this power source?"

Benjamin nodded, "Yes Sir, locked up safely in my quarters in the secure case. If they even knew about it, which I'm pretty sure they don't, they wouldn't be able to scan the Enterprise for it."

"Very well," Picard said curtly, "I'm going to have you advise Captain Riker and Commander Worf of the existence of the Jumper Drive as well as it falling into enemy hands."

Benjamin and Siegel shared a look. "With all due respect, Sir," Benjamin said hesitantly, "That isn't your call to make."

Picard's features hardened into stone, causing both men to shrink in their seats. "It damn well is my call. I realize that you've been special authorization for this mission, but I am an admiral and I have the authority to grant the same special authorization to anyone I see fit. Considering the situation, I not only find it appropriate, but absolutely vital to grant such clearance to Riker and Worf," Benjamin opened his mouth to object, but Picard held up a hand, "Before you say anything, I realize that I am showing those two favoritism, but they served under me for more than a decade and have earned every bit of favoritism that I give them. Computer," the computer chimed in response, "End Conclave Mode. Authorization Picard one one nine delta."

"Conclave Mode ended. Doors have been unlocked and communications have been unblocked."

Benjamin felt emasculated. This was his project. He had been promoted to the rank of captain specifically for this, and now it was being ripped from him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to will away the headache he could feel coming.

Picard touched the badge on his chest, "Picard to Riker."

"Riker here, Sir" came the response, "It's good to hear from you. Where were you?"

He waved off the question, "I'll explain later. Right now I need you and Mr. Worf to come to the conference room. We have a matter of some urgency to discuss."

There was a short pause before Riker answered, "Yes sir, but I'll need to bring the Doctor and Spike with me. I believe that he might be able to shed some light on the events of the last few days."

Picard raised his eyebrows and looked to the other two officers, who simply shrugged.

"Very well," he said, "Call a meeting of the senior Officers. We'll need to inform everyone and decide what to do from there."

Benjamin grimaced as he felt the final nail go into the coffin on his career. He knew that he would probably face a court martial for his failure to keep a lid on the project, to say nothing of him losing the drive itself. He took some comfort in the fact that he might be able to keep himself out of prison by explaining that Picard hadn't given him much choice.


	14. The Meeting

A/N: Haha, new chapter in record time! I hope you guys enjoy :-)

* * *

Captain Riker, Commander Worf, Commander Kotor, Lieutenant Commander Meps, Lieutenant Commander Parsons, Lieutenant Torik, The Doctor, Captain Benjamin, Commander Siegel, and Spike all sat around the conference table, with Admiral Picard sitting at the head. He had started the meeting by telling everyone that they were now under top secret protocols, and that what was about to be revealed didn't leave the room. He then asked Captain Benjamin to explain 'Project Jumper' and what had happened on the Davenport just before it was destroyed.

After everyone was up to speed, Riker asked Spike to stand and explain the prophecy and his part in it. He did so reluctantly. This all seemed a little too formal for him. As he spoke, most of the people looked incredulous. Picard listened intently, a scowl chiseled on his face. Riker and the Doctor, despite having already heard the story, sat with their full attention on the blonde vampire.

When he finished, he found his seat again. Picard leaned forward in his chair, folded his hands on his table, and asked, "Does anyone else have anything to add?"

"I do, Sir," the Doctor piped up, "Mr. Torik and I have gone over the corpses of our 'romulan' attackers. I'm honestly not sure whether to call them androids or cyborgs."

"What do you mean, Doctor?" Riker asked.

The Doctor looked to Torik, who picked up the explanation, "Part of their bodies are non biological. Their skeleton, mainly."

"That doesn't mean anything," Siegel interrupted, his chin resting on his giant fist, "My skeleton's made of a titanium composite alloy. That doesn't make me a cyborg."

Torik raised an eyebrow, "Actually it does, Commander. But that is hardly the only oddity about these creatures. The skin is also non-biological. It appears to be made of a highly advanced polymer meant to mimic skin. However, the heart, the lungs, as well as most of the major arteries appear to be _synthetic_ biological."

"You mean grown in a lab?" Benjamin asked.

"Or a factory," Meps suddenly chimed in. Spike noticed the red head for the first time. He had to admit to himself that she was quite fetching, in spite of, or perhaps because of, the light brown spots running down the sides of her face and neck. He idly wondered how far down they went.

"I believe you're on the right track, Commander," the Doctor replied, "When I compared the … ahem, pieces of the bodies, they appeared to be identical. Not even the faces were different. When I opened the skull, I found a biological brain, but with synthetic neural pathways, similar to a positronic matrix."

Torik leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, "The most disturbing information we have discovered so far is, I believe, in the blood," He tapped a control near him on the table. Spike followed everyone's gazes to a screen above Picard in the wall behind him. The image was something Spike didn't recognize, it looked to be blood, but with several tiny machines floating around. Everyone else at the table seemed to know what it was. The color had drained from most of their faces.

"What's so scary about this?" Spike asked, "Just looks like a bunch of little doohickys."

Every head in the room turned and he suddenly felt nine pairs of eyes boring holes into him.

"That," said Picard, his voice empty and hollow, "Is the signature of the greatest enemy the Federation has ever known, an enemy we thought we had defeated long ago. The Borg."

Silence fell over everyone as soon as he said the word. A palpable sensation of dread filled the room. Each person seemed to turn inward on themselves, privately considering the implications of fighting this apparently terrifying enemy.

"That fits," Benjamin said quietly, "My ops officer said the ships that attacked the Davenport reminded him of the borg."

Spike looked around the table, "I don't get it, what's so scary about this 'Borg' guy?"

Meps slapped a hand to the table. "It's not a guy," she said through gritted teeth, "The borg are a cybernetic species that does nothing but consume and devour. They enslave entire races and crush entire civilizations. You've never faced anything like them before. They are pure, unadulterated evil."

Spike scoffed, "Please, you don't know what evil is."

"I think evil would be an illogical assessment," Torik said, "I would liken them more to a force of nature. One does not fight a hurricane, one gets out of the way."

"You're comparing the borg to something natural?" Maps asked in disbelief.

"That's enough!" Picard commanded, "We need to decide on the best course of action for now. Mr. Benjamin, in your opinion, is it possible that the borg have figured out to use the Jumper Drive yet?"

Benjamin shook his head, "Not a chance, Sir. Even if they could power it, which I'm positive they can't, the calculations for the drive itself are incredibly complex, not to mention the encryption on the drive and the problem of reverse engineering the hook ups for the main deflector dish. _If_ the borg can power it, reverse engineer the hook ups, _and_ get through the encryption, there's a good chance they'll blow themselves up because of a miscalculation."

Picard sighed, "I'm afraid we simply can't take that risk."

"Perhaps assuming that these creatures are borg is jumping to conclusions," Torik said

"What are you talking about?" Meps asked forcefully, "You were the one who brought up the nano-machines."

"I was simply showing the evidence that the doctor and I had uncovered," Torik said flatly, "The borg have always assimilated, not manufactured, their drones. I believe that would point away from these cyborgs being part of the collective. Perhaps your previous experiences with the borg are causing irrational fear in you."

Meps' eyes narrowed dangerously. "Watch your tone, _Lieutenant_," she growled.

"Rajda," Riker said her name in a warning tone. The red head slowly leaned back in her chair, but the muscles in her face and neck remained taught. Spike smiled to himself as he thought about what a great shag she must be.

Picard had watched the exchange with interest, but said nothing until Meps had settled into her seat. When she finally did, he turned his attention to Torik. "For now, we are going to assume that these creatures are the borg. If nothing else, it's a place to start, but I want you and the Doctor to focus one hundred percent of your efforts on discovering all you can about these things."

"Yes Sir," Torik and the Doctor said in unison

The admiral turned to the chief engineer, "Mr. Parsons, is the Enterprise ready for another mission?"

"Yes Sir," the chief engineer said, "We completed repairs en route. Most of the damage was on the inside because of the fighting in the halls."

"Excellent," Picard said, "I have to report to Starfleet Command. I am going to recommend that the Enterprise be dispatched for further investigation."

"Sir, if I may?" Benjamin said, "Commander Siegel and I would like to remain on board for the duration of the mission. I think we can help."

"I'm afraid not, Captain," Picard answered seriously, "You'll need to report to your superiors about the jumper drive."

Picard looked around the room. "Dismissed," he ordered.

People began standing a milling toward the door. Spike looked to the Doctor, but he was already up and speaking to Torik about their task. Riker, being closer to the head of the table, had already left the room. Not sure what to do, he decided to see if he couldn't catch the captain. As Spike passed the head of the table, Picard suddenly turned to him.

"Mr. Spike," he said cordially, "Would you mind staying for a bit. I thought we could have a bit of a chat."

The vampire studied Picard for a moment then, deciding it couldn't hurt, sat back down in the chair closest to the head of the table. Picard leaned back in his own seat and studied Spike intently.

"Mr. Spike, I'm going to be perfectly honest with you," he said, "I find your presence here a little too convenient. I have been exploring the galaxy for more than half my life, and one of the many lessons I have learned is to constantly look a gift horse in the mouth. How do I know that this isn't some elaborate hoax on your part, or possibly a trap?"

Spike scoffed, "You're kidding, right? Why the bloody hell would I freeze myself and leave behind everything I know just to play a joke on some military man with a rod up his ass? I'm here because I was promised eternal damnation if I didn't do this. I didn't want this!" he slammed his fist on the table and shot to his feet. His temper flared at the thought of one more person questioning his motives when he had done nothing but sacrifice for the world over and over again.

He was screaming now, "Ever since I went through tests and torture to get my soul back, the universe has done nothing but take from me. I sacrificed myself to save the world, got made go-through-able for my trouble and forced to spend months trapped in the office of the one guy who's been a constant pain in my undead ass for almost two hundred years. Then some ponce brings me back to solid only to screw with my head and try to turn me against said pain-in-the-ass. Like an idiot, I decide to help droopy-drawers and the gang take out L.A.'s biggest and baddest, _after_ he holds a sword to my throat mind you, and for doing the right thing I again get cosmically bitch-slapped and sent to hell. And because I can't take a bloody hint, I do the right thing again and try to help the poor humans and save them from the demon lords. When I finally get back to Earth, the love of my life, the one person who I would do anything for, the one I got my soul back and gave it up again for, chooses to be with tall, dark, and stupid-hair!"

With a scream of rage, the vampire turned and punched the wall behind him with all of his strength. It made a loud, metallic _CRUNCH_ as it crumpled beneath his fist. He took several deep, unnecessary breaths to try and calm himself.

Still facing the wall, he quietly spoke, "Honestly, I wanted to spend the rest of my unlife drinking myself into a stupor and trying to forget about everything I ever loved, because it all seemed to have forgotten about me," he turned to face the admiral again, "I did everything I knew, everything I could think of, to try to be the man she deserved. When I couldn't, I sacrificed myself for the 'greater good'. I didn't want to come back. I didn't want to live without her. I didn't want to spend eternity 'doing the right thing'. When I do come back, I fight for right and good and everything else, and it doesn't make a damn bit of difference. Then, after all that, I get fed up and decide to try living for myself again. But instead of being left alone, I get threatened into doing the 'right thing'. And you have the bullocks to sit there and ask me if I'm pulling some prank. But you know what, I don't care. I don't care if you think I'm the good guy or the bad guy or the in-the-way guy. I've been brought here to save your ruddy bums and I intend to, and it's not even because I'll go to hell if I don't. I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do."

Picard's eyes flicked from Spikes face, to his fist, to the dent in the titanium wall. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he stood, came face to face with the blonde vampire, and held out his hand.

"Mr. Spike, I can't begin to imagine the hell that you have been through. For what it's worth, I am grateful that you're here. We could use all the help we can get."

Spike nodded and took Picard's hand and shook it firmly. He released it and began to walk toward the door. Just before he stepped out, something occurred to him.

"Does being a cyborg make you 'more than a man'?"

* * *

Benjamin walked with Siegel down the hall and back to his quarters. Neither of them spoke until they reached the guest quarters where Benjamin had been staying on the journey back to Earth. The door shut and the young captain walked to the window, folded his arms, and stared at North America slowly drifting past in the endless ocean on the planet below. He stood there for several minutes, vaguely aware of his best friend standing behind him. He heard the creak of the desk chair as the big man sat down.

Finally, he sighed and, without turning, asked, "What do I do, Tony?"

Siegel chuckled, "Why ask me? You're the captain."

Benjamin shook his head, "Not for long. I'm going to lose my command. I'll be lucky if I don't get tossed in the brig for this."

"They're not going to put you in prison for this, James," the big man said, "And your command is already gone. We left it in a billion pieces in the Neutral Zone. You might get demoted, but is that so bad?"

Benjamin turned, not believing what he had just heard. "Isn't it?"

Siegel smiled wearily, "Come on, James. You're twenty-six years old. You have plenty of time to make it back up the ranks. Hell, they could make you redo all four years at the Academy again, and you'd still make captain decades before you retired. I'm the one who has to worry. Need I remind you that I'm ten years your senior." He affected an overly dignified air.

Benjamin rolled his eyes, "Only in age. Maybe if hadn't joined Starfleet so late."

He shrugged, "I will admit that it did take me a while to find my place in life. But here I am, right on the edge of the unknown. I'm not just finding my own way, but the way for the people who follow our newly explored paths."

The shorter man sat down on the edge of his bed and exhaled harshly, "Not anymore, my friend. Just as well though, it's not like we deserved the promotion."

"That's a bit harsh," the other said, a trace of mirth in his voice. Benjamin's face remained hard.

"Oh, com on, Tony," he said, "What is the one skill that you and I have in common?"

Siegel's features darkened, "You mean our ability to resist pain."

Benjamin shook his head, "Not just pain. Torture. Starfleet Command figured if we ever fell into enemy hands, we'd be ale to hold out against interrogation. That's why we were chosen."

Anthony Siegel stared at his oldest friend for several seconds before he began laughing. "I swear James, you have to be the most paranoid man I have ever met."

The comm chimed, interrupting Siegel's guffaws, "Bridge to Captain Benjamin." It sounded like that young trill from the meeting.

"Benjamin here," he answered.

"Starfleet Command is on a secure channel for you. They also asked that Commander Siegel and Commander Ellison be there as well. Should I call for them?" she asked

"No, we're already here," he said, shaking off the painful memory, "Route the call to my quarters please."

"No problem," came the response.

Siegel started to relinquish the desk chair, but Benjamin waved him off, already dragging another chair behind the desk to the monitor. He touched the pad and Admiral Osborne's face appeared. He was an old, slight man with only a few wisps of grey hair on his otherwise bald head. He had bright blue eyes with a youth in them that completely contradicted his age.

The old man smiled, "It's good to see you well, Captain. And you, Commander. Where is Ellison?"

Benjamin and Siegel shared a look. "I'm afraid he didn't make it, Sir."

"My goodness," Osborne said with genuine shock, "What happened?"

The young captain looked down and took a deep breath before looking again at the screen. "It's a very long story, Sir. Do you have time for a full report?"

The old man nodded, relaxing into his big chair, "Of course. Please go on."


	15. More Than a Man and The Brass

I am SOOOOO sorry that this took so long. I have reasons (new job being chief among them) but I know you don't want to hear about that. For those of you who are still reading and haven't lost faith in me, thank you and enjoy!

* * *

"That is quite the story," Admiral Osborne said after hearing their report, "I assume Admiral Picard knows all of this as well."

"Yes Sir," Benjamin said, "I'm sorry, Sir, but I felt that, considering the situation-"

"It's alright, my boy," the old man said, chuckling, "Picard's clearance is more than sufficient. The only reason he didn't know before is because he wasn't directly involved in the project. Is there anything else that I should know about?"

Benjamin chewed his lower lip, not sure if he wanted to tell Osborne about the 'vampire' and his 'prophecy'. The whole thing seemed more than a little far fetched, and it might be better if he waited for Command to hear it from Picard. The Admiral had light years more respect than Benjamin or Siegel. Besides, he wasn't sure that he believed it himself. Fortunately, his first officer spoke up.

"Yes," the big man answered, "Picard is going to report to Command, but he told us that he's going to recommend that the Enterprise be sent back to the Neutral Zone to investigate further."

Osborne nodded, "That seems wise. I will advise that I would like the two of you to remain on board. No one knows the capabilities of the Jumper Drive batter than you. You said you still have the power source for the drive?"

Both men nodded. The young captain looked over his shoulder to the drawer he had placed the case in. Unless someone knew that it was on board and knew exactly where to look, it would be safe. Benjamin turned back to the screen.

"It's on board the Enterprise, Sir," Benjamin told him, "We kept it in the secure case."

"Excellent," the old man said, "I'm going to use the remote access codes to transport the case down to our research lab. In the mean time, I want you to tell Captain Riker and Admiral Picard that I am ordering you to remain on board. I intend to approve dispatching the Enterprise with the condition that you go along. Your mission, in addition to assisting the Enterprise crew, is to retrieve the Jumper Drive if you can, or destroy it if you can't. Anyone who has been granted clearance to know of the Drive's existence is also cleared to be made aware of that objective. Is that understood?"

Both men nodded. A chime issued from somewhere in Osborne's office. His eyes moved off the screen for a moment, then he looked back to the two officers.

"Speak of the Devil and he shall appear" he said, smiling, "I'm being summoned to hear Picard's report. I will speak to you both again before you depart."

"Yes, Sir," they said in unison.

"Oh, and one more thing," the old man said suddenly, "I want you both to know that I am proud of you. I know that this first command didn't go as smoothly as we had all hoped, but we are Starfleet and these things do happen."

Benjamin felt a huge weight lift off of his shoulders. Maybe he wouldn't lose his command after all. Maybe he and Siegel would be given a second chance. As far as he knew, he was the youngest captain in Starfleet history, but for the last several days, he had been worried that his claim to fame was going to be as the worst captain in Starfleet history. He realized now that he had been overly dramatic in that assessment, but it was hard not to. His ship gone and the special project for which he had been promoted compromised, he felt sure that he'd be demoted faster than a ferengi runs from a fight.

"Thank you, Sir," the young captain said, "You have no idea how much of a relief it is to hear that."

The old man smiled in a knowing way, "One day soon, my boy, I will tell you about how I lost my first ship. For now, I have to go. Good luck to both of you."

The screen went back to the default image of the Seal of the United Federation of Planets. Silence rang in the room for several seconds. Benjamin got up and walked to the Replicator to get some water. While he sipped it, he saw a smug smile grow on Siegel's face. Knowing what the big man was thinking, Benjamin rolled his eyes and smiled with relief.

The chime of the door broke the silence. Both men looked at the door, unsure of who it might be. The door chimed again before Benjamin remembered that they were in his quarters and he would need to give the command to allow the door to open.

"Come in," he said loudly.

The door opened and Spike stepped into the room. He carried a large trunk over his shoulder and he had to maneuver it into the room with him. Without saying anything, the blonde dropped the trunk on the bed and threw the lid open, revealing the contents. The object lying on top immediately caught both Benjamin's and Siegel's attention. It was a Bastard Sword, with a blade just a little over a meter and a half long and a slightly over sized grip. The trunk was filled with other objects as well; old books, crystals, jars filled with unidentifiable substances.

"Alight, Big Man," Spike said, bringing both men's attention back to him, "I've got a few question for you, and if you answer them properly, Father Christmas might have something in his magic bag for you."

Siegel raised an eyebrow and looked to Benjamin. The captain shrugged, leaning against the wall. If he wanted to answer Spike's questions, Benjamin certainly wasn't going to stop him. He knew most of Siegel's past, including the painful surgeries and training on Vulcan, but the details weren't something he readily shared if he didn't have to.

Siegel, still sitting at the desk, leaned back in his chair and shrugged, "Go ahead and ask, but I won't promise to answer."

Spike sat on the edge of the bed, flaring the bottom of his coat so that he wouldn't sit on it. Benjamin noted quietly to himself that the blonde moved with an intensity that he hadn't shown before. Even during the fight on the holodeck, the man had moved with an unhurried, fluid grace. Now, however, there seemed to be an urgency to him. His neck and back muscles were tight, like an animal ready to pounce.

* * *

Spike looked at the big man sitting across the desk from him. If he was right, than this was the man who was 'more than a man' mentioned in the little note on the sword. But he wasn't sure what to ask. He had only gotten this far in his head. He hadn't thought of any questions that might flush out if he really was the one.

The big man smirked, "You gonna ask, or are you just gonna sit there and stare at me?"

"Right, um," Spike thought a second longer, "Tell me about this compost skeleton you have."

Both Siegel and Benjamin laughed out loud. Not sure what the joke was, he scowled, but decided to wait.

Finishing in a chuckle, Siegel looked at Spike and shook his head, "The word is _composite,_ not compost. It's made from a titanium composite alloy. It's the same stuff they made this starship from."

"Is that the reason you're so big?" He asked immediately.

Siegel nodded, "I was raised on a planet called Vulcan. It has stronger gravity than Earth. That made my muscles grow stronger than normal, which allows me to walk around with this heavier than normal skeleton."

"You're stronger than normal, then? How much stronger?" the vampire asked.

Both men chuckled at that. Benjamin set his now empty glass down and rubbed his neck, "A lot stronger. I've had the broken bones to prove it."

_Sod it,_ the vampire thought to himself, _I may as well just ask._ "Do you think of yourself as 'more than a man'?"

The young captain, still standing at the far wall, started to chuckle again, but he seemed to realize that no one had joined in. Siegel hadn't even smiled. Instead, he stared at Spike in shock. Spike waited for him to answer, but quickly lost his patience.

"You gonna tell us what you're thinking, mate?" he said loudly, not entirely sure the big man would hear him.

Siegel finally blinked and shook his head. "Sorry," he said, "I haven't had anyone call me that…in a long time." His stare became vacant once more and he didn't elaborate. After a few seconds, a single tear made its way down his cheek.

Benjamin stepped forward, looking concerned, "Hello? Enterprise to Siegel, please respond."

The big man blinked again and shook his head. Grabbing the arms of his chair, he adjusted himself so that he was sitting more upright. The chair groaned in response. Spike noticed that he didn't make any effort to conceal the tear or even wipe it away.

"Sorry," he said again, "Lost in my own head. When I was a kid, to try and make me feel special, keep me from feeling like a freak, my mom told me that my skeleton made me more than a man."

Having been around prophecy and magic as much as he had, Spike knew that wasn't a coincidence. This was the man the sword was meant for. Suspicions confirmed, he stood, lifted the sword out of the trunk, and smirked to himself as the other two tensed. Before they could protest, he turned and handed the sword to Commander Siegel, hilt first. The big man stood uncertainly, cautiously taking the blade from Spike. As he lifted it, his face changed from uncertain, to curious, to finally breaking out in a big grin.

"This is _incredible,_" he said, "The weight is perfect, the grip isn't too small. It feels like it was made for me."

"I believe it was," Spike said solemnly. He noticed Benjamin staring in disbelief. Spike retrieved the note that had been attached to the sword and handed it to Benjamin.

"This was with the weapon. After our meeting today, I realized that he might be the 'more than a man' it mentioned."

Benjamin's eyes moved as he read the note, then handed it back to Spike, "Doesn't tell us much, does it? It doesn't even rhyme."

Spike was about to answer, but they both heard a _whoosh_ sound and looked over to see Siegel experimentally swinging the blade. Spike smiled at the look on the big man's face, like an overgrown child with a new toy. The vampire looked back to the captain, who sighed wearily before moving to the trunk.

"What else you got in here?" he asked.

Spiked looked with him, "Not sure. Most of this stuff looks like the magick doodads that witches would use."

"Magick, huh?" Benjamin asked, "I've been in Starfleet ten years, if you count my academy days. I've never seen anything that would fit my definition of magick."

The _whooshing_ sounds started to grow louder and more frequent behind them.

"You sparred with a vampire this afternoon," Spiked reminded him.

"Point taken."

Spike pulled a small box at the same time as Benjamin reached for a ruby set in a silver bracket. The box had a note attached by a string. He turned it over.

_Leave this for someone who knows what it is_

Curiosity piqued, he opened the box. A stone so black that it seemed to suck in the light around it sat cradled in velvet. On the inside of the lid was another note.

_Really, Spike. Leave it alone._

He couldn't help but notice that note was in the same handwriting as the one on the sword. Closing the box, he looked over to see what Benjamin had. The young man handed it to Spike with the note facing up.

_To stop the endless advance of indestructible foes, point this at the imposter and say "terminus praestigiator rapio veneficus"_

"Do you know what language that is?" Benjamin asked, reading the note again over Spike's shoulder.

"Yeah," he answered, "It's Latin. Must be some kind of spell."

"Do you know what it says?"

Spike shook his head, "No, I don't speak Latin."

"Then how do you know it's a spell?" Benjamin asked, raising an eyebrow.

Spike let out an annoyed huff, "I just bloody do, alright."

The young man held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, alright. So, what else have you got in this magick trunk?"

* * *

The gigantic, panoramic windows in the halls of Starfleet Command looked out over San Francisco bay. From his vantage point, Picard could see the water churning up around the base of the Golden Gate Bridge, forming white topped waves that stood out in contrast to the storm around it. Rain poured heavily against the windows, pelting them with a _tap tap tap_ in rapid succession. Picard sighed to himself. If it wasn't foggy in San Francisco, then it was raining. He would never understand why Starfleet had chosen this for the site of their central command, especially when the presidential mansion was half a world away in Paris.

Footsteps caught his attention and he turned to see Captain Tuvok marching purposefully toward him. He put on a cordial smile and extended his hand.

"Mister Tuvok," he greeted, "It's good to see you."

The Vulcan grasped Picard's hand and shook it firmly, "And you Admiral. I only wish it were under more pleasant circumstances."

"They called you in for this meeting?" Picard asked, confused.

Tuvok nodded, "Admiral Toke thought my advice might be useful, considering the nature of the possible threat. Though, based on the initial report, I doubt that I will have much to offer. The truth is that Admiral Janeway would have been much more useful."

The Admiral nodded sympathetically, "Yes, she was quite an officer. Her death had to have been especially hard on you."

"Yes," he said, showing nothing of the sadness or anger he no doubt felt, "With the exception of T'Pel, she was the closest person in my life. Her death was…most difficult."

The two men stood quietly for a moment. Picard wondered to himself how Tuvok had dealt with Janeway's death. He had known enough Vulcans to know that the logical exterior they put forth was only microns thick and that just below it was a raging torrent of raw emotions the he as a human would never really understand.

A young clerical officer approached with a hurried step. She stopped in front of the two men and checked her pad before speaking, "Admiral Picard and Captain Tuvok?"

The two men nodded. The young woman returned the nod. "Follow me please," she said, turning.

As she led them through a maze of corridors, Picard followed without thinking about which direction he was going. His thoughts were instead on the tragic death of Admiral Janeway. According to the report that he read, she had died in her sleep shortly after returning from a trip to the crystal caves in California. Her doctor had said that, despite being incredibly healthy for a woman her age, her heart had simply given out. Had that happened on a alien world that Enterprise were visiting, and if Picard were still in charge, he would have ordered the cave quarantined and investigated until the root cause had been found. But it didn't happen on an alien world. Thousands of people visited the crystal caves every year and no one died. And Picard wasn't captain of the Enterprise anymore. Not for the first time, even that day, the Admiral cursed his age.

Out of the corner of his eye, Picard studied Tuvok, thinking again on the rolling sea of emotions that must be flowing just beneath the surface. He knew a little of Voyager's story as they made there way through the Delta Quadrant. As he understood it, Tuvok had been her friend and advisor before the energy array had dragged them out of the badlands and across the galaxy. The vulcan must have respected her a great deal. Picard knew that a vulcan's respect, like a klingon's, is not easily earned.

Their guide stopped before a door and motioned them inside. Tuvok held his hand out, urging the superior officer through first. Picard obliged and entered the conference room. The conference table had been set up with chairs for each of the ranking admirals as well as an extra seat, for Tuvok apparently. Every chair had been filled save two. Picard took his usual seat near the head, noting with pleasure a steaming cup of earl grey waiting for him.

Admiral Toke, a vulcan and the Senior Admiral, stood to begin the meeting. "Thank you for coming, Tuvok," he said, then he addressed his fellow admiral, "Picard if you would please bring us all up to date?"

Picard, who was sipping his tea, set the cup down and addressed the room, "As I'm sure we are all aware, the Enterprise and the Davenport were dispatched to the neutral zone."

Picard went over the entire report from both captains as well as the data that Torik and the Doctor had gathered about the creatures, indicating their possible borg origin. When he finished, he paused for a moment and mentally braced himself for what he was about to reveal next.

"My report mentions extenuating circumstances, which is the main reason I called this meeting. On its way back to Earth, the Enterprise came across a derelict vessel approximately two hundred years old. Based on the materials and age, Lieutenant Torik, the science officer, deduced that the planet of origin is Earth. On board, an away team discovered what appeared to be a frozen human male."

"Cryogenically frozen?" Admiral Anderson, a human in his sixties, asked incredulously.

"No," Picard answered, "He was found in what appeared to be a giant freezer. It appeared as though whomever built the ship were preserving a corpse, rather than a life. When the crew brought the body aboard, however, it woke up."

Even Toke's eyes widened slightly at that revelation. "He cannot be human, then," he stated with certainty.

_He doesn't know the half of it,_ Picard thought to himself. "You are correct," he said, "Not completely, at least. He is something that most people, even in his time, didn't think existed; A creature of mythology. He is a vampire."

"Forgive me," Tuvok spoke up, "But I am not familiar enough with human mythology to know what a vampire is."

Anderson, who Picard knew to be a bit of an expert on ancient mythology, leaned forward to explain, "The short version is a creature that used to be human that feeds on human blood."

"Yes Admiral," Picard said, drawing everyone's attention again, "The Doctor has been using the medical replicator to feed him blood. But most of this is actually beside the point. What is important is that he claims that the Enterprise finding him was no accident. He presented a two hundred year old prophecy that appears to mention Captain Riker and the Doctor."

"Appears to?" Toke asked.

Picard nodded, "It doesn't mention them by name, but it says 'a reluctant captain and a doctor made of light'. That would seem to indicate those two. The more distressing part comes toward the beginning. It mentions an enemy that would send 'robotic demons' and indicates that it threatens all of reality." Finished with his report, Picard regained his seat.

"Given your report," said Admiral Osborne, speaking for the first time, "I would say 'robotic demon' is an apt description."

"Indeed," Picard answered, "It is my suggestion that we dispatch the Enterprise back to the Neutral Zone to investigate further."

"I agree," Osborne responded, "But I'd like Captain Benjamin and Commander Siegel to accompany them. They are best equipped to deal with certain…sensitive issues."

_Why is he dancing around the matter?_ Picard thought. Suddenly realizing the reason, he glanced at Tuvok. As the only captain in the room, he was also the only one without the proper clearance for such sensitive information.

"You don't think the Enterprise capable of handling that situation?" Picard asked, slightly offended despite himself.

"I don't doubt the abilities of Riker's crew, but no one understands the ins and outs of the situation like those two."

"I believe that can be decided later," said Toke, bringing and end to the argument, "To help us decide our next course of action, I asked Captain Tuvok to be here."

"Thank you, Admiral," Tuvok said, leaning forward and steepling his fingers, "But I do not believe I have enough information to call for a course of action other than to gather more information."

"Any ideas where we might look?" asked Darin, a female bajorian. Picard smiled inwardly. He had come to respect the woman a great deal in a very short time. Despite being the youngest in the room, she was also one of the most outspoken.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow, "Yes, actually. I believe we should ask the one person who would know more about that borg then either myself or Admiral Picard."

Even Picard stared blankly at him, no one jumping to mind. He looked around the room to see everyone else with the same blank look.

Tuvok looked briefly at his hands, a gesture uncharacteristic of vulcans. Looking up again, he said, "I am speaking of Annika Hansen. Most of you in this room know her as Seven of Nine."


	16. The Admiral, the Eye, and the Ensign

Happy New Year everyone. I know it has been awhile and that this is shorter than normal. I'm sorry. But on the upside, next update will be quicker _and_ longer.

* * *

Everyone sat in stunned silence for a moment in response to the name, as Tuvok knew they would. Even Admiral Toke raised an eyebrow. Annika Hanson, formally the borg drone known as Seven of Nine: Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, had been living with Commander Chakotay in Montana. The two had left Starfleet shortly after returning to the Alpha Quadrant, choosing to live simpler lives in untouched wilderness. Calling on them wouldn't be easy, as the two choose not to have any long distance communication devices. Their only option would be showing on their doorstep.

Picard leaned forward, "Are you sure that she would be able to help us?"

"I am not," Tuvok responded, "However, as the only living person with more knowledge of the borg than either of us, the logical course of action is to seek her out."

"I agree with Captain Tuvok," Toke said, "We need to contact her immediately."

"There is one problem, Admiral," Tuvok said, "They prefer to keep their interactions with technology to a minimum and thus have no long range communication devices. We will need to actually visit their home."

"Perhaps we should send just you, then," Osborne suggested.

"I believe the Doctor's presence would be beneficial," Tuvok answered, "I understand he is stationed on the Enterprise."

"He is," Picard answered, "Would you like to ask him yourself?"

Tuvok nodded, "I would."

"Very well," Toke said, "Picard, I agree with Osborne that certain matters are best handled by Benjamin and Siegel. To that end, I suggest that Tuvok and the Doctor be sent to retrieve Annika Hansen. Once she has been acquired, the Enterprise will be dispatched to the Neutral Zone, with Miss Hansen, Tuvok, Benjamin, and Siegel on board. Are we all in agreement?"

Slowly everyone nodded. Picard seemed reluctant, but he consented. Tuvok could read the tension in his clenched jaw from across the table. Tuvok guessed it had something to do with Benjamin and Siegel being ordered aboard for this mission. It seemed illogical, both men were competent officers and their help with a clearly sensitive matter would be beneficial, but he could think of no other reason for Picard to be dissatisfied with the result of the meeting.

Toke had apparently seen the tightness in Picard's face as well. His eyes lingered on the human for just a second longer than anyone else. Finally, he stood and adjourned the meeting. All of the Admirals stood and began filing out the door, speaking among themselves. Tuvok stood and made his way over to Picard just as Toke did the same. He noted that Osborn had not moved away from his seat. The man lingered, seemingly waiting for something to happen. Tuvok deduced that, logically, Osborne must be waiting for him to leave so as to discuss the sensitive matter in private.

"Admiral Picard," he said, "I will gather a few personal items for transfer to the Enterprise. When you are ready, I will be in my quarters here in the building."

* * *

Once Tuvok had left the room, Osborne walked around the table to stand in front of Picard.

"I hope you understand," he said, "That wasn't about posturing. Benjamin and Siegel have orders to either retrieve or destroy the device. We cannot allow it to remain in enemy hands. As valuable as it is as a tool for exploration, it is that much more dangerous as a weapon."

"I do understand," Picard conceded, "But I do not believe that Benjamin will be an asset during this mission. That boy's temper is going to get him, and the rest of the Enterprise crew for that matter, into serious trouble. He burst into my meeting with Captain Riker and struck him in the face. That is not acceptable behavior for an academy cadet, let alone a Starfleet officer."

Osborne gave him a weary sigh, "I realize that it might seem that way, but I know the boy very well. He had a moment of weakness, but overall he is a fine officer. And Siegel is his rock. The Commander would follow him into the mouth of hell. Those two make a fantastic team, and if you allow them to accompany the Enterprise, you will be amazed by what they can accomplish."

Picard looked to Admiral Toke, who had been watching the exchange without comment. Osborne looked to the vulcan as well. Picard hoped to gain support for his position. The boy was not fit to be a captain, and he was sure that the young man would be a liability on the mission. Toke raised an eyebrow to Picard.

"Ultimately, it is your decision, Jaun-Luc, but my advice is to allow him to go along. He could be an asset, but even if he proves difficult, Riker is still in command."

Picard thought it over for a long moment. He was still certain that Benjamin's temper could prove detrimental to the mission, but Toke did have a point. When it came right down to it, the Enterprise was still Riker's ship, and he wouldn't allow Benjamin to become a liability.

"Very well," he finally consented, "But I want to have a conversation with him first."

* * *

"How long has it been bothering you?" the Doctor asked.

Benjamin was sitting in sickbay while the Doctor scanned his left eye. He and Spike had gone through the trunk items until his eye started to hurt in earnest. At that point he had excused himself to go to sickbay to have it looked at.

"It's been on the fritz since Spike punched me earlier this afternoon," he answered, "But it didn't start to really hurt until just before I came to see you."

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" the Doctor asked.

Benjamin shrugged, "I thought it would work itself out."

The Doctor sighed, straitening, "You know, Captain, you really should have told me it was acting up. Machinery that closely connected to your brain can cause serious damage," he walked back to his instrument table, "I realize you've had it in your head for a while, but it should still be looked at regularly."

"Hey Doc, you designed this thing, remember?" Benjamin said, pointing at the offending eye.

Instrument in hand, the Doctor marched back to the bio-bed, "I designed it to replace an optical implant on a former borg drone, and she came to see me every week to look at her implants."

"You think I need to have it looked at every week?" Benjamin asked.

"What I think," the Doctor said, adjusting his instrument, "Is that when a person with super human strength hits a delicate implant designed to replace an even more delicate body part, you should tell the on board physician, not hope it will 'work itself out'. Now hold still."

Benjamin did his best to stare straight ahead as the Doctor worked on his implant. It wasn't easy. Having a light that close to his eye, although artificial, and that close to the his still tender bruise made him want to close it and turn way. After a moment, he turned off the tool and straightened.

"How does that feel?" he asked.

Benjamin looked around the room. Everything looked right, his range of motion seemed good, and he even held up his left hand to get an idea of how his peripheral vision had fared. Looking to the Doctor, he was about to say that everything seemed normal, but suddenly it wasn't. The Doctor was…_fuzzy. _It looked as though he wasn't quite there.

"Doc, is there something wrong with your holomatrix?" he asked.

The Doctor glanced to a readout on a panel in the wall before answering, "No, my holomatrix is normal."

"Then something's up with my eye. You look, for lack of a better word, fuzzy to me."

"_Fuzzy_?" he asked. Stepping forward, he covered Benjamin's artificial eye with his hand, careful not to touch the bruise. "How about now?"

Benjamin squinted slightly, "The same."

The Doctor's eyebrows knit together and he moved his hand to the other eye, "And now?"

Now Benjamin's brows knit together, "You're gone."

"Gone?" the Doctor asked, "You can't see me at all?"

Benjamin shook his head slightly, "No, not at all. It's kind of weird to be honest."

The Doctor removed his hand and considered for a moment. Benjamin looked away while he did. The effect of looking at someone who didn't seem entirely there was disconcerting. Finally, the Doctor reached for a plastic disk and used it to cover Benjamin's artificial eye. The young man's eyebrows shot up.

"Normal," he said.

The Doctor removed the disk and turned on his tool again, "Your eye isn't seeing the grouped photons that normally make me visible. Close your right eye and let me know when I look normal again."

Benjamin did as instructed. After another few minutes and a few more adjustments, Benjamin could see the Doctor normally again.

"That was weird. It's never done anything like that before."

The Doctor nodded, "It was a small malfunction in the photo-receptor circuits. It's not an error I have encountered before, but it only took a minor adjustment…" The Doctor's voice trailed off as he stared at the tool in his hand.

Benjamin hopped off the bed and walked over, putting his hand on the other's shoulder, "Doc, you okay."

"Hmm?" he said, "Yes. I was thinking that I might have a way to fool our borg enemy."

"Riker to the Doctor," the Commander's voice came over the comm.

The Doctor tapped his badge, "Doctor here."

"Meet me in transporter room two," Riker ordered, "There's someone you need to see."

"On my way," the Doctor said before tapping his badge again to close the channel. He turned to Benjamin, "If you have any more trouble," he pointed for emphasis, "Even the slightest glitch, come and see me, understand?"

Benjamin nodded, then watched as the Doctor put on his mobile emitter before stepping from the room.

* * *

Ensign Elizabeth Jacobs put her hands over her head, stretching as she yawned. The young ensign had only been on the Enterprise for a scant to months and already a lot had happened. Unfortunately for her, she had missed most of it. Being a transporter technician certainly had its drawbacks. She was mostly ignored by most of the other officers and she missed a lot of the action. But the one major advantage was that she got to see most of the little side conversations that happened just before a dignitary or other VIP beamed in, or just after they left. She gleaned a lot of important information that was used as currency by the lower officers and non officer crew. A good piece of gossip about the ship's often classified missions earned bragging rights and awed looks from her peers, which was the reason she had joined Starfleet in the first place.

The door slid open in the middle of her yawn and Captain Riker walked in, followed closely by Commander Worf. The Captain looked directly at her, and she did her best to stifle her yawn.

"Look alive, Ensign," he said.

"Sorry Sir," she apologized as her cheeks reddened.

"She is nearing the end of her shift," Worf told Riker.

"And my week, Sir," she added.

The Captain smirked at her, "Got a hot date, Ensign?"

The jibe broke the tension hovering over her, allowing her to smile. "No Sir, just hoping to see my mother while we're here. I'm just waiting to see if Commander Worf will approve my request for shore leave," She looked at the klingon hopefully.

"I saw the request Jacobs," Worf said, "I haven't had the chance to tell you, but I have already approved it, provided that it doesn't interfere with your Mok'bara class."

"Yes Sir," Jacobs said, smiling and trying not to bounce on the balls of her feet in excitement. Her console beeped, breaking the spell. It took her a second to regain her composure. "Um, it looks like we're receiving coordinates from…Starfleet Command? Is Admiral Picard rejoining us Sir?"

She hadn't meant to ask the question. She wasn't supposed to ask questions in Starfleet, just follow orders. But it had slipped out when she saw the signal code.

"No Ensign, Captain Tuvok is coming to collect the Doctor. The two of them are going to see an old friend from Voyager."

She raised her eyebrows as she tapped the controls. She knew that the ship's doctor used to be on Voyager, she had learned about him at the Academy. The fact that Tuvok, the tactical officer from Voyager, was joining them was interesting news indeed. This would certainly garner quite a few shocked looks in Vogan's tonight.

Just as she was moving her finger's up the panel, initiating the transporter process, the Doctor walked into the room. He nodded to the Captain and the Commander in turn just as a vulcan materialized on the pad.

"Hello Captain Tuvok," Riker said, smiling, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"You as well, Captain," the vulcan responded, "This must be Commander Worf."

"Yes," Worf said simply.

"Hello Tuvok," the Doctor said, genuine pleasure in his voice.

"Hello Doctor," the vulcan said, "I'm afraid that there isn't time for pleasantries. I need you to come with me to see some old friends. Out of respect for their wishes, we cannot transport down. We will need to take a shuttle craft.

The Doctor's smile gave way to a sober expression, "You mean Seven and Chakotay, don't you."

Tuvok nodded. The Doctor seemed to consider this for a moment. Jacobs watched the entire exchange, fascinated. She made mental notes of the names, telling herself to look them up later.

Finally, the Doctor turned to the Captain, "Sir, I'd like your permission to bring Spike along for this mission. I believe he will be able to explain the prophacy better that Tuvok or I."

_Prophecy?_ Jacobs thought. She had to have heard that wrong.

The vulcan raised an eyebrow, "You are referring to the vampire you have on bored?"

_VAMPIRE?_ Now she was sure she had heard wrong.

The Doctor nodded, "He's a fascinating creature, Tuvok. And he is quite committed to this cause."

"What do you think, Captain?" Worf asked the vulcan.

His brows drew together as he considered, "It is logical. His first hand knowledge would be a great deal more convincing."

Riker sighed, "Alright fine. But remember that he is a predatory creature, specifically designed to hunt humans. I want you and Captain Tuvok to be carrying phasers, just in case."

Tuvok and the Doctor both nodded. The Doctor motioned for Tuvok to follow him and all four men filed out of the room.

Jacobs was left standing alone, astonished at the things she had heard. As she considered, an irritating thought occurred to her.

"I can't tell anyone about this," she said out loud, "No one is going to believe me."


	17. A Grisley Discovery

I know that promised this would be quicker and longer, and that I didn't deliver on either. I'm sorry. But here it is. Enjoy.

* * *

Shortly after Benjamin had left the room, Spike had hoisted his trunk over shoulder and excused himself to go find his own room. He had already discovered that if he asked the computer directly, it could tell him most things he wanted to know, and could lead him pretty much anywhere on the ship.

"Um, Computer?" he called once in the hall. It chimed in response. "Could you point me to my room?"

"Negative," the robotic female voice said.

Annoyed, he looked around, not sure where to direct his indignant glare. "Why the bloody hell not?"

"You do not have quarters assigned to you on board the Enterprise," the voice answered.

"Un-sodding-believable," he said, shaking his head, "Fine, point me back to sickbay or whatever."

A panel on wall next to Spike lit up. "Follow the lighted panels," the computer said, "They will show you the way."

Spike, used to this from finding big man, walked down the hall as the panels lit the path before him. He followed it to an elevator where he told it to take him to sickbay. Once the doors opened again, he stepped out and more panels immediately lit up to guide him. Following them, he finally made it to a familiar looking set of double doors that opened as he approached. Inside, he set his stuff on the bed he had woken up in, figuring that until he got his own room, he could consider this bed his.

He didn't really have time to wonder what to do next as the door slid open and the Doctor walked in followed by a tall, black man with the same kind of harsh features and pointed ears that he saw on one of the people in the in the meeting. Based on what the Doctor had told him, he guessed that this man was probably a vulcan.

"Ah, Spike, you're here," the Doctor greeted, "This is Captain Tuvok. He and I used to be shipmates."

Spike reached out and shook hands with the man. The grip was strong, stronger than any human.

"We're going to see an old friend to see if she can help," the Doctor continued, "We were hoping we could convince you to come along."

Spike shrugged, he really didn't have anything better to do. "Yeah, I could do that," he said, "But why do you need me?"

The vulcan, Tuvok, spoke up, "You're first hand knowledge of this prophecy would be quite convincing."

"Alright," Spike said, "Let's go."

* * *

The large, interlocking double doors opened to reveal a giant room, at least as big as the main room in the Initiative. There were several what Spike could only assume to be small space vehicles lining the walls. Each one was narrow and sleek, sporting what looked like duel engines and large windows in the front, revealing places for people to sit behind controls on the inside.

The Doctor led them to the back of one of the small crafts and opened a door. The interior seemed cramped in comparison to the city sized ship that he was on. Even so, it was still slightly larger than the interior of the private jet he had flown in yesterday.

_Yesterday_, he thought, _That wasn't yesterday, that was two hundred years ago. Bloody hard to remember that when you've been asleep for all of it_.

Sitting where the Doctor indicated, Spike took in the incredibly complex control panel in front of him. Computers had never been his thing, having been born in a generation that still used horse drawn carriages, but what he saw now seemed like something out of a science fiction movie. None of the controls were labeled, and the various read outs were indecipherable. He looked up to see the Doctor and Tuvok sitting in their own seats at the front control panel, both of them fluidly moving fingers across the incomprehensible controls.

"Shuttle one to Enterprise, we're ready for launch," the Doctor said.

"Copy shuttle one," a voice responded, "Opening shuttle bay doors."

Spike felt a slight lurch as the shuttle lifted off the floor of Shuttle Bay One and moved sideways, lining up with the large doors that were now opening on the far end of the room. As they parted, Spike could see part of the Earth against a background of stars. The shuttle moved slowly forward, revealing more of the picture as they neared the door. Exiting the ship, they moved across the outside hull, and Spike finally saw the whole picture. The giant, blue planet rested against the black infinity of space, slowly turning while clouds moved along its surface, like the dress of a dancer in a perfect, celestial waltz. The site took his breath away. He felt a tugging at his chest, and yet his dead heart refused to beat in sympathy. A tear rolled down his cheek at the sublime misery of it all.

The view turned and the Earth began to race at them as they descended. As they broke the atmosphere, the small space craft shuddered against the forces pressing in on it. They punched through a bank of clouds and Spike could see the ground coming up alarmingly fast. They seemed to be headed for a patch of forest next to a river. The shuttle suddenly planed up as they reached the tops of the trees. Spike watched as the tops of the trees sprouted up from the bottom of the front window and grew past the top. Another small lurch announced that they had landed.

Spiked waited as the door in the back opened and the other two stood and walked past him. He stood and followed the two out of the craft and into the clearing in front of a quaint, single story cottage. The Doctor and Tuvok started to make their way to the house, but Spike grabbed them both by an arm to stop them. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he could tell that something was definitely wrong.

* * *

Benjamin's finger hovered above the buzzer to Picard's office in the Federation Capitol Building in France. He had no idea what this was about. The Admiral had asked him to transport down shortly after he had left Sickbay. The idea had scared him out of his mind. Whatever it was couldn't be good, especially since Admiral Picard had only asked for him, and not both him and Siegel.

Finally, feeling a bit like a coward, he pushed the button. A muffled 'Come' sounded from the other side and the door, recognizing the command, opened. Picard's office wasn't especially big, but decorations made it seem a warm, inviting place. In stark contrast to the Academy, Starfleet Command, and every ship that Benjamin had ever been on, the room was decorated in dark oak, with a number of paintings and artifacts lining the walls. Against the far wall was a large book shelf completely filled with old fashioned, leather bound books. The thing that caught his eye though, was a case filled with a number of ancient long boat models. Each was meticulously crafted with the care and precision of a master.

"Those ships," Picard said from behind his desk, "Are my favorite decoration. Exact replicas of the French Navel fleet, circa fifteen hundred A.D. I made them all myself."

Benjamin continued to stare at the models, "That's very impressive, Sir," Benjamin looked at the older man, "I've never been very good with my hands. I prefer writing holo-novels."

Picard smiled warmly, "Why don't you have a seat."

Benjamin sat in the old fashioned, leather upholstered seat opposite Picard. The Admiral leaned back in his own chair and considered Benjamin for a moment. The seconds ticked uncomfortably away under Picard's scrutiny. Benjamin knew well the man's record. His command history was taught as part of the "Great Captains and their Influence on Modern Starfleet" course at the Academy. He wondered briefly if the Admiral knew that, and if so, how that made him feel.

"I called you here," Picard finally began, "Because I wanted to have man to man discussion with you. You and Commander Siegel are going to be joining the Enterprise on the mission to the Neutral Zone. I wanted to be sure that certain issues between yourself and Captain Riker were settled before they became a problem."

Part of Benjamin knew that he should just say 'Yes Sir' and try to end this meeting as quickly as possible. He needed to get back to the Enterprise and coordinate with Riker and the rest of his crew. Not to mention that the old man scared the wits out of him. But the truth was that he respected this man. A number of captains in Starfleet would give their right arm for the opportunity to have a heart to heart with a living legend like Picard. In the end, he decided to be honest.

"Sir, I'm the youngest captain in Starfleet history. I'm pretty sure that the only reason that I was promoted is because of my ability to resist pain. I was just so eager to prove myself, and when my ship was destroyed, it was like my entire career had been ripped away. I know that seems callous, considering that so many people lost their lives, but its how I felt. Lashing out at Riker was stupid, I know. I guess I was just looking for someone to blame other than myself. Having thought it through, and hearing the rather blunt advice of my first officer, I really have no problem with Captain Riker. He did what anyone is his position would have done and if not for him, I'm sure a great many more lives would have been lost that day."

Picard nodded and thought for a minute, "You studied my career as part of your Academy requirements, correct?"

Benjamin nodded. He guessed that answered the question of whether he knew that he was part of the curriculum.

"Did they mention the mission where I and three other crew members were transformed into children due to a transporter accident."

Benjamin thought for a minute before responding, "Yes, but I didn't know that was you. That case was taught in 'Applications and Side Effects of Transporter Technology.' It was a fascinating case, but not really my area."

Picard looked surprised, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he said, "Well, suddenly I was physically twelve years old. I thought that if I just walked onto the bridge and gave orders, the crew would follow. I remember quite clearly the feeling of dread when they stared at me like I was cadet trying to give orders. After some convincing by Dr. Crusher, I handed command over to Riker. It looked as though a cure would be found, but then there were complications.

"Renegade ferengi attacked our ship and seized control. I almost lost the ship while I was a twelve year old boy, and I have never forgotten how that felt. I remember thinking that if I lost the Enterprise, I would go down in history as the captain who lost his manhood, then his ship."

"How did you regain control of the ship?" Benjamin asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

"We used the fact that we were children to our advantage," Picard suddenly laughed, "I had to pretend to be Riker's son and throw a tantrum to be allowed to see him." The old man flailed his arms about in his chair, repeating "Now, now, now" in a falsetto impression of a child's voice. Benjamin, taken in by the image of a crusty old Starfleet Admiral throwing a tantrum, began laughing as well.

The laughing died out in fits and an uncomfortable silence stretched between the two. Finally, Picard cleared his throat, "My point, Captain, is that I can see where you are coming from. But the behavior you exhibited on the Enterprise is completely unacceptable. I need to know, before I send you out on a mission of extreme importance, that nothing like that will happen again."

Benjamin nodded, "I understand, Sir. My behavior was unbecoming of not only myself, but also Starfleet. Nothing like that will ever happen again."

Picard smiled again, "I'm glad to hear that. I want you to head back up to the Enterprise and tell Captain Riker that we had this discussion. Tell him whatever you feel is necessary to clear the air between the two of you. We can't-"

"Enterprise to Admiral Picard," Riker called through the comm., cutting Picard off midsentence.

Picard touched his Starfleet badge, "Go ahead, Number One."

"Sir, Could you and Captain Benjamin return to the Enterprise. I'm afraid I have some very disturbing news."

* * *

Tuvok and the Doctor stood, weapons drawn, with Spike at the front of the property belonging to Chakotay and Seven. Trying to get a handle on what had startled the vampire, the Doctor's eyes scanned the rapidly darkening landscape. With his left hand, the Doctor pulled his tricorder and took some preliminary scans of the area.

"I'm not getting any life signs," he said.

"No, you wouldn't," Spike said.

"What do you mean?" Tuvok asked.

"The air is thick with the smell of blood," he responded, "It isn't fresh, at least two weeks old, but there has to be a lot of it."

"You can smell blood?" the Doctor asked, impressed.

"Yeah, it's one of my many amazing talents," Spike said, "Wait here."

Without waiting for an answer, the vampire ran and leapt up to the roof of the small cottage. Landing lightly, he walk casually to the other side and dropped out of sight. The Doctor found his abilities amazing. There was no scientific explanation for his superhuman strength and agility, not to mention his heightened senses. His muscle mass and sensory organs were no different than that of an ordinary human, but he did things that far exceeded any mortal man's abilities. Even the tricorder couldn't pick up the minute traces of blood he could, yet he said the air was thick with it. After a few moments, the door opened and Spike stepped out.

"Come have a look, Boys," he said, "But you're not going to like it."

* * *

Spike stood in the back of the room while the Doctor and Tuvok looked at the mess with their fancy little machines. There was very little of the body left, mostly just smears around the kitchen. The smell hung heavy in the air in the kitchen, at once intoxicating and revolting. The demon within him yearned to be set free at such an obvious slaughter, yet his soul cried out at such a foul murder. The contrast twisted his insides. It was feeling he had gotten used to in the last few years, but it still made him sick.

"So, is that your friend?" he asked, already wanting away from the grisly scene.

"I don't know. I'll have to compare these samples on the ship. There, I'll be able to tell how many victims we have here, and who they are."

"There's only one person there," Spike said off handedly.

Tuvok, looking at his little machine, raised an eyebrow, "You are correct, Spike. How did you know that?"

Spike tapped the tip of his nose in answer. Tuvok nodded absently, reading off his little display, "One person, male, most likely Chakotay."

The Doctor closed his device with a snap, "That means that Seven could still be alive."

"Shall we saddle up then, Boys?" Spike asked.


	18. Two Meetings for Spike

Thank you to all of you. Please Enjoy.

* * *

Spike sat in a chair around the big conference table on board the Enterprise once again. Upon discovering the remains, he and the other two men had immediately returned to the ship and brought the news to Captain Riker, who had recalled Admiral Picard and Captain Benjamin. Everyone, including the Enterprise's senior staff, now sat at the same conference table, loudly arguing over one another about what action next to take. Spike sat quietly, his eyes closed, feeling like the eye of calm in this storm of raw fear.

"Enough," Picard finally commanded. The Admiral sat at the head of the table with Riker and Worf on his right; Benjamin and Siegel on his left. "We need to decide on a course of action, and this arguing is getting us nowhere. We must remember that we are Starfleet officers and we have a duty to remain calm and rational, even in the face of a situation as dire as this seems. Now, I want suggestions form each of you, in turn."

"We have to go back," Spike said matter-of-factly.

All eyes turned to him. He didn't shift under their stares. For the first time since awakening, he could finally see clearly. The path before him was perfectly visible, and he aimed to walk it. The weight of responsibility rested heavy on his shoulders, but for once, it didn't seem nearly as heavy or cumbersome as it had in the past. This was his purpose here. Unfettered as he was, no Drusilla, no Buffy, no Illyria, he felt like he could give this his all. He would save the universe, and for the first time, he would be a leader, taking charge, and no longer being fate's bitch.

"What do you mean, 'go back'?" Benjamin asked.

"Just what I said," Spike answered, "We need to go back. We need to bring the fight to them."

"It's not that simple," Riker said, "I know that you're eager to face this enemy, but we can't go in, guns blazing."

Spike leaned forward, "Why not?" When Riker didn't immediately have an answer for him, he went on, "I think we should go in, guns blazing. These things have been one step ahead of us since I woke up and I'd wager a fair bit longer. From what I've seen, you pussy foot around forever before you take any action at all. Their counting on that. We need to run in their and rip the bullocks right off of them before they can make another move. Benjamin," Spike turned, addressing the young captain, "You said before that this thing they stole is complicated. You said they could blow themselves up if they got their numbers just a little bit wrong."

Benjamin nodded "Yeah, that's right."

"Could you do it on purpose, get the numbers wrong and go boom?" Spike asked.

Benjamin shifted in his seat, "I'll be honest, Spike. I wasn't one who crunched the numbers. That was Ellison's job. In fact, he was instrumental in its creation. The project was more or less his baby."

An older man with salt and pepper hair spoke up, "Do you think you could get a copy of the plans? I might be able to help if you can." Spike suddenly recognized the man as Parsons, the one who had helped him with the DVD player.

"He has a point, James," Siegel said, "It doesn't need to work, it just needs to fail in the worst way possible."

Benjamin sighed, "That could be just as complicated, though."

"Maybe," Siegel conceded, "But I think it's worth a shot."

"That is, quite possibly, the most illogical thing I have ever heard," Torik said flatly.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow, "Then you have not been around humans for nearly long enough, Lieutenant."

Torik turned to his fellow vulcan, "Commander Siegel is suggesting that we simply 'give it a shot' with a piece of equipment more complex in design and intention than any piece of technology than any of us has any experience with. Not to mention going up against an enemy that we know very little about. We need information, not bravado."

"I do not think it is at all illogical," Tuvok said, "As I understand it, you and the Doctor have learned quite a bit from the corpses left behind during the last attack. Also, I happen to agree with Spike's assessment of our opponents. When an enemy has predicted your strategies with accuracy thus far, the only logical course is to meet them with a move that they will not expect."

Riker, leaning back in his chair and stroking his beard, said, "Not to mention Parsons being one of the most brilliant minds in his field. If anyone could figure that thing out, it's him."

Spike looked to Parsons and saw a small smile of pride.

"Perhaps your pervious encounter with these creatures is causing an irrational fear in you, Torik," Meps said, smirking. Chuckles rippled across the table. When they died out, silence fell over the group. After a moment, Spike stood. "What else have we got?" he asked as he paced around the table, "Any other ideas on how we can deal with these things."

"The bat'leth," Worf said

"Gesundheit" Spike said. Another set of chuckles erupted. Spike could see Worf clenching his jaw as he waited for it to stop.

"I did not sneeze," he said, "The bat'leth is a lethal bladed weapon. We have seen that phasers are useless against these creatures, but given Commander Siegel's success with more…hands on methods, I think that anyone with close combat experience should be utilized."

"That must be what the sword is for," Siegel said

Spike saw everyone's head turn toward Siegel and he suddenly seemed uncomfortable with all the attention. Spike pulled it back to himself, "I gave it to him. There was a note on it saying that it was for the one who was 'more than a man'. I worked out that it was meant for him."

"Interesting," Tuvok said, "How did you reach such a conclusion?"

Spike, having completed a circuit of the table, plopped back into his chair, "Wasn't that hard. Mr. Sunshine over there," he indicated Torik, "called him a cyborg. I thought that might make him the one I was looking for, so I asked him."

Siegel picked up the story, "He asked me if I considered myself 'more than a man'. My mom told me when I was younger that my skeleton made me more than a man. She said it so I wouldn't be afraid of the surgeries that I had to go through."

"What about Captain Hits-a-lot over here?" Spike aimed a finger at Benjamin.

"Says that man who gave me the first black eye I've had in years," the young captain answered, "Besides, I have no weapons training. I don't really think my fists are going to do a lot against these things."

Siegel rolled his eyes, "James, you hit harder than anybody I know."

"Except you," Benjamin said smoothly.

"Actually, Captain," Parsons said, leaning forward, "If this crazy plan that I can see forming is actually going to work, we're going to need you. I'll need your help with the device, and I have no practical combat experience."

Worf leaned forward on an elbow, "Does anyone else have any hand to hand or close combat training?"

Meps slowly raised her hand. When Worf looked her way, she put her hand back down and said, "It wasn't actually as Rajda, but one of my other hosts was a member of Alpha Squad during the Dominion War." Spike caught the significance of the statement in the impressed looks of several of the people around the table.

"I had hand to hand combat training in my youth on Vulcan," Tuvok said, "As all vulcan youth have."

All eyes turned to Torik, who nodded, "Indeed, but none of that matters. Without a way onto the ship, or even knowing where it is, we can't put any of these plans into action."

"I think we can safely assume that the ship, or whatever is the source of these things, is also the source of the unusual readings that are emanating from the Neutral Zone." Meps said.

"I agree," Riker chimed in, "But it still leaves us without a way on, and vulnerable once there."

"I believe I can help with that, Captain," the Doctor said, speaking for the first time, "I think I have developed a way fool the creatures' senses. While working on Captain Benjamin's eye, which is based on my design to replace Seven's borg implant, I inadvertently set it so that it couldn't detect my grouped photons."

"I don't understand, Doctor," Riker said.

He leaned forward to make his point, "I became, in essence, invisible to his left eye."

"I don't see how that helps our current situation," Picard said, "Do you intend to somehow reset all of these creatures' eyes."

"Actually Admiral, I believe I can create a device similar to my mobile emitter that could disguise the crew by grouping photons around them that their eyes wouldn't be able to detect." The Doctor sat back with a self satisfied smile. Spike also smiled, impressed by his ingenuity.

"Excellent," Riker said, "Mr. Torik, I want you to study the sensor readings from when the creatures were transporting over. See if you can learn anything that we can use. Captain Benjamin, request the plans for the Jumper Drive from Starfleet Command. Parsons, as soon as we have them, get to work on those calculations. Meps, I know most of the training you received during your time in Alpha Squad is classified, but I want you to gather any other crew members who have any combat experience or training and teach them what you can. I want to be ready in case we are boarded and I imagine your combat experience dwarfs us all. Tuvok, I'd like you to help the Doctor with his research regarding these new borg. Apart from the Admiral, you know more than anyone alive about how they operate. I believe your experience would be invaluable."

"Very well, Captain." Tuvok said flatly.

Riker turned his attention to the vampire, "Spike, I want you to look through that bag of tricks of yours and see if you have anything else in there that will help. If you're right, and I think you are, you were sent here for a reason. I think that trunk is a big part of that reason and I want to be damn sure that we don't miss out on anything that will help."

"Number One," Picard said. Riker turned to face him, so Spike surmised it must be a nickname. Picard continued, "I need to report to Starfleet Command, but as your commanding officer, I am ordering you to depart for the Neutral Zone at once."

"Yes Sir," Riker said. He turned to address the crew, "You all have your orders. Dismissed."

Everyone stood and began filing for the door. Spike stretched, realizing just how long a day it had been and just how tired he was. Seeing Riker and Worf still sitting in their chairs having a quiet discussion with Picard, he walked over and leaned on the back of the Admiral's chair.

"Do any of you blokes know where I could get some shuteye?" he asked, "Been a bloody long day and even the undead need beauty sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry Spike," Riker said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "It's been a long day for all of us." Looking up again, he called out, "Meps!" The redhead, having not quite gotten out of the room, turned at the sound of her name. Riker waved her over and she obliged.

"Would you find some quarters for Spike?" Riker asked, "I believe most of the VIP rooms on deck fifteen are open."

"Of course, Sir," Meps nodded and turned to Spike, "This way."

As they exited the conference room, Spike couldn't help but smile at his luck.

* * *

Meps and Spike stepped into the turbo lift and she ordered it to deck fifteen. Studying the blonde out of the corner of her eye, she wondered if it could be true. Could a mythical creature from Earth's past be standing next to her? She had to concede the possibility. Her own people had myths about the Annuated, but as a Joined Trill, she knew those myths to be true. But at that point, she had to wonder how much of the earth legends about vampires were true. Most trill, for example, believed the Annuated to be their own species, not at all related to the symbionts. But that was completely false.

The doors opened, showing the port hall of deck fifteen. "This way," she said as she stepped out and walked down the hall. The vampire followed her as she turned a corner and stopped at a door. She punched her access code into the key pad and the door opened, allowing them both to enter.

Inside, Meps waved a hand to the room and asked, "What do you think?"

The blonde looked around and shrugged, "All I really need is a bed and a telly, so I guess I'm set."

"What's a 'telly'?" The word felt strange on her tongue. Meps guessed that it must be one of the few words that the universal translator wasn't able to translate into her native language. Sometimes that happened if there was no equivalent word, like the Ferengi word _umox._

"You know, a Television," he answered.

When she shrugged, he rolled his eyes and said, "Never mind. Guess all I really need is a bed."

She nodded and walked over to the replicator, "This is a food replicator. Just tell it what you want and it will make it for you. The bathroom is over there," she pointed to the door, "It has a bath tub and a sonic shower. If you need anything else you can ask the computer."

When he nodded, she addressed the computer, "Assign this room to Spike."

"Acknowledged," the computer said, "This room has been designated for use by Spike."

"There," she said, looking back to the blonde, "Now no one but you will be able to access this room without your express permission. If there isn't anything else, I have a lot of work to do in the morning, so I had better get to my own quarters. Good night, Spike."

She turned and suddenly Spike stood between her and the door. She jumped in surprise. She turned to see the space where he had been empty. Turning back, she caught a lustful glint in his eye that gave her pause. He advanced on her, causing her to take an unconscious step back.

"You know, Pet," he said quietly throw his mischievous smile, "You might not want to leave me alone. I've been frozen solid for the last two hundred years. I could get scared all alone in this dark room with no on to keep me company."

The realization that he was trying to seduce her hit like a phaser blast. _Is this what human women found attractive in his time?_ Not able to help herself, she suddenly started laughing. The hysterics only got worse when she looked at the confused look on his face. Unable to stand up straight, she leaned on him for support while she shook with uncontrolled laughter. After several minutes, she was finally able to calm herself and stood straight again, wiping the tears from her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "It's just that you've got the wrong girl. All of my previous hosts have been men."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Just that you've got the wrong girl," she said again, "Good night Spike."

She walked out the door chuckling. She entered the turbo lift, where she ordered it to deck twenty-one. On her way back to her quarters, a thought suddenly occurred to her. She tapped her badge, "Meps to Parsons."

"Parsons here," the Chief Engineer answered.

"Do you know what a," she struggled to remember the exact word, "_television_ is?"

"Yes," he answered, "Ancient Earth technology. It's like a two dimensional, non-interactive holodeck. Why do you ask?"

"Spike was asking for one," she answered.

"I'm not surprised," Parsons said, "He was in need of a DVD player earlier today. I can fix something up for him after my shift."

"Thanks Ed," she said, "Good Night."

"Good Night, Rajda," he said before closing the channel.

* * *

Spike stared after the redhead as she left the room, still not sure what had just happened. Shaking his head, he took off his coat and long sleeve red button up. Sitting on the bed, he pulled off his boots and socks. From where he sat, he could see part of the Earth, spinning slowly in the heavens. As he watched, the Earth fell away, sinking deeper into the abyss of space. Suddenly, it shot away at an incredible speed, disappearing in the blink of an eye. A wavy, blue hue began moving past the window. Spike thought it looked as though the spaceship was moving through water.

"Parsons to Spike," a voice said suddenly. Spike wasn't sure how to respond. He looked around, hoping there would be a flashing button that he could press. Nothing immediately jumped out at him.

"Spike, if you can hear me," the voice said, "Just say 'This is Spike' or 'Spike here'."

"Spike here," he said.

"Good," the voice said, "This is Lieutenant Commander Parsons, the Chief Engineer. You remember me from the meeting?"

Spike thought a moment, "I do. You were the one who set up the DVD player for me."

"Yes I am," Parsons said, "Meps mentioned that you need a television. I thought that I might be able to set that up for you when I get off shift."

"Thanks Mate," Spike said, "But what I really need right now is sleep. Think you could set it up tomorrow?"

"No problem," the man said, "I'll let you know when I've got some free time. Parsons out."

Spike sat in silence once again and tried not to think about how lonely he was. Everyone that he knew was dead and there apparently weren't anymore slayers or vampires or demons in the world. Finally deciding to take his own advice, he removed the rest of his clothes and lay down. His last conscious thought was at how surprisingly comfortable the bed was.

* * *

Soft white clouds swirled around him, enveloping him, comforting him, welcoming him. Not sure where he was, he looked around, but everywhere was the same. The only thing he could see were the soft, swirling, puffy clouds all around him. He though he heard a sound, maybe a voice.

"Hello," he shouted, "Is there anyone here? Where am I?"

There it was again. Not really a sound, but a feeling, a sensation of familiarity. The feeling directed his attention toward a figure in the distance that he hadn't seen before. Light seemed to emanate from behind the figure, obscuring their identity. He waited patiently for the figure to get to him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it wasn't at all like him to show any kind of patience in a situation like this. But he then had to admit to himself that he liked this strange place and wanted to extend his stay for as long as possible.

As the figure got closer, the feeling of familiarity grew. When she finally came into view, he knew why. Tara stood before him, shining white dress flowing around her. She seemed not just happy, but truly blissful.

"Spike," she said, though her mouth hadn't moved.

"Tara," he said, still in awe of how radiant she was, "My god, you're beautiful." He realized as soon as he'd said it how stupid it sounded, but ignored that. He had simply been stating a fact.

"Thank you, Spike," she said wordlessly. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand, "You are just as beautiful. In this place we see the true beauty of the soul. Spike, your soul shines with as much light as anyone's. That is the reason you were able to become more than a soulless monster before gaining your soul back. It had been reaching out for decades, trying to bring about its own rebirth."

"The chip," he said, "That's what made it possible. I couldn't be a killer with the chip, so it made it easier for my soul to reach me."

Tara nodded, "That was part of it. The other part was Buffy. She brought out the good in you, and you were finally able to embrace it. Your soul's brilliance is the reason you will always be a warrior for the powers that be. Even with the demon inside you, you still stand as beacon of what is good and right in the universe. I am here to tell you that you will not have to fight the demon forever. One day, you will be free."

That single thought caused emotion to well up within Spike. Just when he thought his chest might burst, he felt tears of joy begin to leak down his face. Freedom from this monster within himself had been something that he didn't think was possible. Without it, he might actually get the chance to peruse some kind of happiness in this life.

Tara reached out and embraced him, bringing his head to her chest. He held on, soaking in the love and contentment she radiated. The only time he'd felt this content was the very few times he and Buffy had slept together. Not had sex, merely slept in each other's arms, quietly offering strength and compassion to one another in the warzone known as Sunnydale.

Tara finally pulled him back, her hands on his shoulders, and he looked at her with sadness, "I'm sorry, Love."

Tara smiled compassionately, "No need to apologize, I understand."

He shook his head, "No, I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry you didn't get a fair shake, I'm sorry I couldn't be there when Will went bonkers, I'm sorry that when she came back, I was moaning and crazy in a basement," he looked up, her image wavering in his watery vision, "I'm sorry I wasn't there more for you and for her. I'm sorry I wasn't there for everybody."

"Spike," he face wrinkled with concern, "You were there when you were needed most. And you are here, now, when I need you most."

He straightened, eye brows knit together. "What's the matter, Love?" he asked, "How can I help?"

She took her hands back and brought them close to her chest, dropping her gaze to the ground. "I don't like to make requests this selfish," she said, speaking with her mouth for the first time, "but if I don't, I will live out the rest of eternity in misery and loneliness." The radiance that had surrounded her before had dimmed a bit. Spike was startled at the transformation. Before she looked angelic, now she looked…_mortal._

Spike grabbed her shoulders firmly, "Anything. Name it."

She looked at him pitifully, "Save Willow."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Willow is still alive. I am forbidden from giving too many details, but I can tell you that she is alive and is in terrible danger. When you stop this evil that you are facing, you will have a choice to make. I'm begging you, Spike, choose to save Willow." The pitiful look on her face was almost too much to bear, and Spike drew her into an embrace, putting her head on his shoulder.

"Of course, Tara," he whispered, "I'll do everything I can. I'll get her back."

* * *

Spike's eyes popped open to see the dull grey ceiling of his quarters on board the Enterprise. Sitting up quickly, he looked around, not entirely sure what it was he was looking for.

"Spike to Captain Riker," he said urgently.

"Riker here," came a slightly muffled response, "This had better be good, Spike."

"She's alive," he said "Willow's alive!"


	19. We Prepare

Hello again all. This Chapter would have been up sooner, but I had to rework it. KaeKaeD was kind enough to point out a pretty big flaw and I had to rework the chapter. I think that its better for it, so special thanks to KaeKaeD!

* * *

"I'm telling you, Doc, it wasn't a dream," Spike said, "It was her!"

After explaining what had happened to Riker, the Captain had rudely told him have the Doctor check him out. In hindsight, Spike could understand his attitude, but at the time he felt like he was being brushed off. The Doctor had listened patiently while scanning him, then had politely suggested that it might have been a very vivid dream.

"Well, usually an out of body experience like what you have described would leave some kind of sign," the Doctor said, "Then again, some of my instruments tell me that you're alive and others tell me that you're dead, so what do I know?"

The Doctor stopped scanning and closed his instrument. He seemed to think for a moment before speaking again, "I'll be honest, Spike. I'm not the one to ask regarding anything spiritual. My very existence is technological in nature. Matters regarding what you would call the 'soul' are more than just a little out of my league. Tuvok is on board, and I happen to know that he is a very spiritual man. He might be able to help you understand your…vision."

Spike jumped off the bed, "I understand the bloody thing just fine. Willow's alive and I have to save her."

"Calm down, Spike," the Doctor said, "We can't do anything about it right now. Why don't you go and get some sleep?"

Spike thought it over, but in the end he let out a heavy sigh, "I can't sleep now. Willow's out there somewhere and I'm too worried. Is there anything I can do while I'm up?"

"Actually, yes," the Doctor said, picking up a small device like the one Spike had seen him wear before, but somehow clunky looking in comparison, "I need a flesh and blood person to try out my new mobile cloaking unit. Follow me please."

Spike stood and followed as the Doctor lead him to a spot in front of an eyeball mounted on a stand. Wires came out of it, leading to a little console on the table. Spike noticed a monitor in the wall that showed him an image of himself from the view of the eye. The Doctor put the device on Spike's arm before walking over to the console and pressing a button. The device on his arm clicked and he saw his own image on the monitor become fuzzy, like a bad TV signal. He realized, to his amazement, that the rest of the image was crystal clear.

"Neat Doc," he said, "How'd you do that?" The Doctor walked over with an instrument in his hand and started adjusting the little device.

"It's similar to my mobile emitter," he answered as he worked, "It holds a very simple hologram a few microns from your skin. Unlike my mobile emitter, it can't hold a force field or any sort of complex programming. I'm using it to create a hologram that covers your body and emits at a frequency that the creatures won't be able to see. There," he said as he finished, "That should do it."

The Doctor walked back to the console and hit a button, and Spike's image became ghostly on the monitor. It reminded him uncomfortably of the few months he spent as a specter in Wolfram and Hart. Those had been some of the most difficult days of his existence. But then he had met Fred. She was bright, cheery, and cute as a button. She had been the only one in that office who hadn't judged him as the bad guy immediately. Then Illyria had taken that away. Spike wanted to hate her for it, wanted to destroy the evil bitch for taking Fred away from all of them. But he couldn't. In the end, she had proven an ally, and a friend. Plus, she was the only part of Fred still left in the universe and he couldn't destroy that.

Spike suddenly realized that the Doctor was at his side adjusting the device again. He idly wondered how long the man had been standing at his side while he was lost in his own thoughts.

"Hey Doc," Spike said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," the other answered.

"What're the police going to do about what's-his-name?" he asked, "The one we only found a few smears of."

The Doctor stopped working. "Spike, his name was Chakotay," he said, straightening, "Please, try to show some respect."

"Sorry Doc," Spike said, feeling slightly guilty, "Was he a friend of yours?"

"Something like that," the Doctor answered, "He was the first officer of the ship where I was first activated. I was originally designed to be a supplement if the medical staff was incapacitated or killed. I was activated on star date four eight three one five." When Spike gave him a confused look, the Doctor went on, "That was eighteen years ago. Needless to say, I wasn't designed to be on this long. At first, I railed against it. I couldn't turn myself off when people left. I spent countless hours with literally nothing to do. When they did remember to turn me off, they did so without asking if it was convenient. They treated me like a hypospray, never speaking directly to me unless they had too. Then a brilliant young woman named Kes, whom I had been training as a nurse, and our captain convinced me that I no longer had the luxury of thinking of myself as just the EMH. At their urging, I began to assert myself and demand the respect that any other officer on the ship would get. Eventually, the others began to accept me as part of the crew. We spent seven years stuck on the other side of the galaxy, cut off from Starfleet. In that time, I grew into myself and truly became an individual beyond my programming. We, that is, the crew became something like a family. I have never been closer to anyone than I was to those people."

Spike felt touched by his words. This artificial man had something that few flesh and blood people in the world ever got. Not only did he have it, but he cherished it. It was something that Spike, by his very nature, would probably never achieve. Spike was the lone wolf, the solitary warrior standing against the hoards of evil constantly being thrown his way.

"Times change, though," the Doctor went on, "I'm not even sure where most of the other crew members are now. Janeway's dead, and now Chakotay. I can only guess about Seven."

A look passed for an instant over the Doctor's face, a look that he knew well. Seven was very clearly more than just a friend to the Doctor. Judging by the pain in that look, she never returned his affections. But the pain wasn't just for unrequited love, but also worry over what might have happened to her, concern that she might be dead or worse.

"So what are we going to about it?" Spike asked.

The Doctor let go of a heavy sigh, "What can we do? We have assume that she is alive and being held by the borg."

"That makes sense," Spike said, "What about the bloke, Chakotay?"

The Doctor frowned, "Federation Security is down there right now, gathering evidence. Though I suspect that they won't find much more than we did. I think that he was murdered by the borg as they took Seven." The Doctor was silent for a time. Talking about this 'Seven' person was clearly hurting him.

"Well," he said suddenly, "The only thing we can do is prepare and hopefully get her, and your friend, back." With that, the Doctor pressed a button and Spike saw his image disappear entirely from the monitor. Amazed, he moved his arms, and still nothing. Moving his arms more quickly, he saw what looked like a ripple about where he guessed his arms would be.

"That's pretty good, Doc," Spike said.

"Yes," the Doctor, not sounding as convinced, "There still seems to be a slight displacement when you move. We'll have to be sure to not move to quickly if there looking at us. And we'll need to be in small teams. The more movement, the more likely it is that we'll be spotted."

The Doctor turned off the device, causing Spike to reappear on the screen. Removing the device from Spike's arm, the Doctor turned off the monitor and set everything down on the table. Spike, not sure what to do next, decided to ask a question that had been bugging him all day.

"Hey Doc," he said, "Why don't you have a name?"

The Doctor thought for a long moment. Seeming to make a decision, he walked over to a little stand and pick up his mobile emitter.

"Why don't we talk over a drink?"

* * *

The two men walked into Vogan's a few minutes later and sat down. It took a few minutes for one of the staff bartenders to come and take Spike's order. The Doctor was silent until Spike's drink was half gone. The vampire waited patiently, knowing that he would answer in time. After all, the man had asked him to have a drink.

"In the first couple of years of my existence, I tried for a couple of names. The first was Schweitzer. I chose it at the urging of Kes, the brilliant young woman I told you about earlier. I was going on my first away mission, though admittedly, it was only to the ship's holodeck. She suggested that choosing a name might make me feel more like part of the crew. I chose Schweitzer because Doctor Emanuel Schweitzer pioneered the use of laser scalpels in the operating room. You see, in his day…," The Doctor must have seen the look on Spike's because he suddenly regained his train of thought, "Anyway, the mission was an attempt to find out what had happened to our missing crewmen. They disappeared while running the holo-novel; Beowulf. To make a long story short-"

"Too late," Spike interrupted, smirking.

"-I became attached to one of the characters," the Doctor continued as though he hadn't heard Spike, "She was killed trying to protect me. The bitter irony is that I didn't need protection. As a hologram, I am immune to injury. The last time I heard that name was on her lips. The name was too attached to that painful memory to continue using it."

He sat for a moment in silence, apparently lost in the memory. Slowly, his features softened, leading Spike to believe he had hit upon a more pleasant memory.

"A little less than a year later, I met a remarkable young woman by the name of Danara Pel. She was a hematologist, helping her people. Most of her people, the Vidiians, were suffering from an incredibly infectious disease called the Phage. I was able to extend her life significantly by giving her a neural tissue graft from a member of our crew whose DNA was resistant to the disease. While she was on the ship, she and I became involved. She named me Shmullus, after her uncle. When she left, it didn't seem right to have anyone but her using that name. I only saw her on other time after that. About two months later, our captain and first officer became infected by an insect bite. At great risk to herself, Denara got us a vaccine that was able to cure them. I remember the joy I felt at the sound of my name, the name that she had given me, on her lips. There was so much I wanted to say, but we were in the middle of a battle and there were lives at stake."

"You didn't you look her up again?" the vampire asked.

"I couldn't," the Doctor answered, "It was too dangerous. Her people fought the disease by taking the organs and tissue from other, healthy people and adapting them for transplant into their own bodies. As a ship with over one hundred and fifty healthy people, and with reinforcements more than seven hundred light years away, we were a prime target. After that, I guess I gave up on the search for a name. From then on, I was 'The Doctor'."

Spike nodded. "Let me tell you something, Mate. I understand the pain that came with losing a love. I've lost my own a time or two. And I get that choosing a name is hard. Hell, I went by 'William the Bloody' for decades. It took some rather creative work with a railroad spike to finally shake it. One time I-"

The Doctor held up a hand, "Please, I'd rather not know. I am curious though, what was wrong with 'William the Bloody'? It seams like perfectly fine vampire name, from what I know about vampires."

Spike chuckled, "It is if you don't know the story behind it. People called me that before I was turned though. They called me that because they all thought my poetry was bloody awful. Every time I heard someone call me that, it reminded me of the night I was turned. That was horrible night. I was at the low point of my life, and then I met Dru."

"Yes," the Doctor said, "You mentioned her earlier. She was your…what was the word you used?"

"Sire," Spike answered, "That's what we call the one who turns us. I thought she had opened up a whole new world for me. Looking back on it now, I'm grateful it happened, but now I realize that she was just a crazy berk. Anyway, at first I saw a delicious irony in using the name that my first victims had tormented me with. When reality finally caught up with me though, I only saw the pain in it. That's when I got creative."

The Doctor was quiet for a minute, during which Spike finished the last of his drink.

"So what your saying," he finally said, "Is that I should get creative, do something that will earn a name."

Spike shrugged, "Honestly, I'm not sure what I'm saying anymore."

"Riker to the Doctor," Riker's voice suddenly sounded.

The Doctor tapped his badge, "Doctor here."

"I need you and Spike to come to the bridge. There's something you need to see."

* * *

As the turbolift made its way to the bridge, Spike's words played over and over again in the Doctors mind. He wanted a name. He'd wanted a name for almost two decades. Now, he wasn't sure if it was possible. In all of the logs and historical records that referenced him, he was listed as 'EMH NCC 74656 _aka_ The Doctor'. If he did choose a name, would anyone bother changing those records? Would they still include his registry? Would his name be listed as _aka_?

The turbolift doors opened, revealing the bridge. Riker stood in front of his chair, facing them. As he looked at the captain's unkempt appearance, the Doctor realized that he must have just woken up. Spike followed him to just behind the captain's chair as he gave Riker a questioning look.

Without looking away from them, Riker ordered, "Play the message again, Ensign."

A human Starfleet officer appeared on the view screen, sitting at a desk. He was in his thirties with a head of thick black hair and a full beard to match. "This is Commander Anderson of Starfleet Security. We found some disturbing information regarding the murder of Chakotay and the disappearance of Annika Hanson. As you well know, we were skeptical of your theory that the alien threat you faced in the Neutral Zone had anything to do with this. New information has surfaced that may support your theory," the man picked a pad and read from it, "We found additional remains that suggest that Chakotay has been dead for at least a month. Within a few days of the estimated time of death, on stardate six six four four zero, a strange energy serge occurred in the atmosphere directly above the victims' residence. A sensor scan of the area revealed no further anomalies and so the matter was dropped. A week later, on stardate six six four six zero, the strange energy readings were first detected by Deep Space Six Coming out of the Neutral Zone. Further, we have found no trace that Annika Hanson has been in the residence since Chakotay's death. It is now believed that what ever killed Chakotay abducted Annika Hanson, fled Earth and made its way to the Neutral Zone, where it set the trap for the Davenport." The man put down the pad. "It appears that you were right, Captain. These aliens seem to be responsible for Chakotay's Murder and Hanson's disappearance. Good Hunting." The screen went blank.

Captain Riker turned back to the Doctor. "We received that subspace message less than an hour ago. What do you make of it?" he asked.

Before the Doctor could say anything, Spike answered, "We prepare."

The Doctor turned to Spike, "What do you mean?"

"We already knew that these borg things took the girl and killed the bloke," he answered, "We have a battle plan. Now we prepare. We make sure we're ready. You can bloody well bet they'll be ready for us."


	20. The Attack

A/N: I redid this chapter for several reasons. The most obvious was that is was far too short. The second, and more important, is that it was missing a number of key elements that will become important later. Please leave a review and let me know what you think of the new chapter.

* * *

_Captains Log: Stardate Six Six Five Zero Six Point Four. We have reached the edge of the Neutral Zone. Every member of the crew with any practical combat experience has spent the last three days with Commander Worf and Lieutenant Commander Meps. Lieutenant Commander Parsons reports that he and Captain Benjamin have come up with a command sequence that should cause the Jumper Drive to overload. Though I admit that I have reservations about this plan, with the Doctor's personal cloaking emitter and several of my most experienced officers leading the charge, I find myself growing more and more optimistic._

* * *

The ship bustled with activity as crew ran this way and that, going to assigned duty stations or running errands for senior officers. The Doctor felt the apprehension in the air as he made his way to Spike's quarters. This was it. They were going in to face an enemy they knew very little about. The only things the Doctor could be sure of were that their opponent was dangerous and devious.

He arrived at his destination and pressed the alert button. The door opened after Spike's muffled _come in_. He was amazed at how quickly the vampire had gotten used to the way the doors on a starship worked. He stepped into the room and saw Spike putting a couple of items from the trunk into the pocket of his coat.

"Hey Doc," Spike said, "What can I do for you?"

"I thought you might want this," he said, handing him the silvery bag of blood.

Spike's face lit up, "Right on Doc." He took the bag and cut it open with his teeth, drinking down the thick, red liquid inside. Looking down, the Doctor saw a silver bracketed ruby in the vampire's hand.

"What's this?" he asked.

Spike wiped his mouth and looked at the small jewel, "Don't know exactly. The note said to use it on the 'imposter', whatever that means."

The Doctor's brow furrowed, "Use it how?"

Spike shrugged, "I'm supposed to point it at them and say 'terminus praestigiator rapio veneficus'."

The Doctor's translation matrix brought him several possible meanings. He picked the most logical one and said it aloud, "End the imposter's trap magick?"

"Yeah, that sounds 'bout right."

"Siegel to Spike," the comm. chirped.

Spike tapped the badge that Captain Riker had issued and asked him to start wearing. "Spike here."

"Were ready in Shuttle Bay Two when you are."

"Right, on my way." Spike tapped the badge again, closing the channel. He put the ruby in his pocket and stepped passed the Doctor, toward the door. The Doctor called out to him, holding out the other item he had brought.

"You asked me to preserve this," he said, holding up the small vile with the lock of hair. Spike, his expression sober, took the vile with trepidation. As he did, he saw the chain attached to it.

"I took the liberty of putting it on a chain so that you could war it around your neck," the Doctor told him, "I hope you don't mind."

Spike gently lifted the chain over his head and placed it around his neck. "You never know, Doc. That little minx might just save my ass one more time. Thank you." He reached out and firmly shook the Doctor's hand.

"Good luck Spike."

* * *

The Captain's Yacht, disengaged from the Enterprise, hovered at the edge of the invisible wall that was the border of the Neutral Zone. On either flank, two runabouts sat in formation. The Enterprise sat just behind the other ships, like a mother bear guarding her cubs. Spike, aboard one of the runabouts, stared at the view screen at the front of the cramped interior. The void of space stretched out as far as the eye could see. Somewhere in that eternal darkness, Willow was enveloped in some unknown peril. The only thing he was sure of was that it had something to do with these Borg creatures. He had to save her. He had promised Tara.

"You ready for this?" a deep voice asked. Spike jumped. He had forgotten that he wasn't alone in the small craft. He turned to face Siegel, who was manning the controls.

"One thing I've learned over the centuries, Mate," he answered, "Is that you're never ready."

"Captain Riker to team leaders," the voice called over the comm.

"Siegel here," the big man answered.

One by one, Worf, Benjamin, Meps, and Tuvok responded.

Riker's voice was calm, controlled, and authoritative, "You all know your roles. Let's get in, get the job done, and get out. Mr. Worf, we'll move on your mark."

_Don't worry, Tara, _Spike thought, _I'll save her._

* * *

"Warp three," Worf said over the comm., "Engage."

Parsons watched as the two larger ships disappeared into the Neutral Zone. Soon, this whole nightmare would be over, one way or another. The plan was simple enough, but it still seemed like there were so many variables they didn't know. Was it a ship or a space station? What kind of defenses did it have? Were there ships protecting whatever it was out there? All of these questions that no one thought to answer and yet here they were, flying into an unknown battle against an unknown foe.

He turned to face Benjamin in the dim illumination of the cockpit, "Do you think we stand a chance?"

Benjamin smirked at the question, "You tell me. The Enterprise is your baby."

The older man sighed and ran his fingers through his graying hair, "I'm not sure. She's the most advanced ship in the fleet, but we're going in half blind. We really don't know what we're going to face out there. Not to mention they wiped the floor with the Davenport." Glancing over, he saw the young captain's face lose all expression. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Benjamin leaned back in his chair, letting go of a heavy sigh, "It's okay, I know what you meant. And you're right. But the Enterprise has two major advantages that the Davenport didn't have. First, we were ambushed. Assuming we haven't drastically underestimated our enemy, we have the advantage this time. Secondly, the Enterprise is a Sovereign Class starship with enough weaponry to assault a fleet. The Davenport was a Nebula Class _science vessel_. Minimal weapons and defenses. Hell, I'm pretty sure this runabout has more torpedoes than the Davenport did."

Parsons nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"You're not nervous, are you Commander?" Benjamin asked in a slightly mocking cadence.

"Damn right, I'm nervous," Parsons said, exasperated, "We're going into this situation like an ancient west cowboy going to a shoot out at the Okie Dokie Corral."

Benjamin chuckled, "First of all, Parsons, I'm pretty sure it's _Okay_ Corral. Secondly, we have to do this. If these things are like the Borg at all, the Jumper Drive gives them a free ticket right to Earth's doorstep. It was less than twenty years ago that a borg cube, _one borg cube, _almost destroyed an entire fleet. If the Enterprise, commanded by then Captain Picard, hadn't shown up when it did, they would have very likely invaded Earth itself. We have to do something."

"Tuvok to team leaders," the vulcan called over the comm., "Set course for the energy signature and prepare to engage warp three on my mark." Tuvok paused for a full ten seconds, giving Benjamin time to input the coordinates.

"Mark."

* * *

Meps touched the control, sending the runabout into low warp. She glanced over at Ensign Vasquez. The young man was firmly gripping his rapier. She marveled at the beauty of the ancient Earth weapon. The pommel was intricately laced with gold and silver wire flowing together to create a stylized flame just over his knuckles.

Looking down at her belt, she saw her own weapon, a Klingon D'k tahg dagger. It had been a prize, taken off the corpse of and enemy from at least two lifetimes ago. Her combat experience had all been hand to hand and this was the only non-phaser weapon she knew how to use. Even so, Meps knew she could wield the blade with deadly intent. In her past life as Commander Axon Meps, he had carried it on all of his missions. At first, it was simply a good luck charm. During a botched attempt to free Betazed from Dominion control, he had used the blade to kill four Jem'Hadar when he had been cornered with no other weapon. From then on, he considered the blade a weapon and learned to use it as such.

The sensor alert chirped and Vasquez leaned over the console, "Approaching the energy signature…"

* * *

"…Preparing to drop out of warp," Torik said. The young vulcan disengaged the warp engines in sync with the other vessels. A gigantic complex of spheres and cubes stretched out before them. Each section could have stood alone as its own space station, yet they were all connected with metallic tubes big enough around to fit a Defiant Class starship. The complex looked as though it could house the entire population of all twenty nine federation worlds.

"What is this?" Torik heard himself ask, even though logically, he knew Tuvok wouldn't have the answer.

Amazingly, he did, "I have seen something like it before. If I had to guess, I would say that this is the new Unimatrix Zero One."

"How did they create such an immense complex in such a short time?" Torik asked. The young vulcan would never admit it out loud, but he was awestruck.

"I am unsure," Tuvok responded, "Sensors show the complex as nearly five hundred kilometers wide. I'm reading a population at least five hundred thousand; All borg."

* * *

"Are you sure?" Benjamin asked.

"Definitely," Parsons answered, "The life signs, if you can call them that, conform almost exactly to known borg signatures. I think we might be looking at Unimatrix Zero One."

"I'm pretty sure that is supposed to be in the Delta Quadrant," Benjamin said, "Maybe this is Zero Two."

Parsons raised an eyebrow, "You failed the borg section of the Interstellar Sociology, didn't you?

"Not a required part of the course any more," the young captain answered.

"Tuvok to team leaders," the vulcan interrupted, "I have located the Enterprise and the Captain's Yacht. They are attacking what appears to be the core of the structure. Set you coordinates to seven five nine mark four and engage at full impulse. Keep the comm. open."

Benjamin quickly did as ordered, aiming the runabout toward the center of the gigantic structure. The four vessels moved as one toward a sphere the size of a small moon. A battle raged between the structure and the Enterprise. The ship seemed impossibly gigantic from the cockpit of the small runabout, yet it dipped, dived and rolled as gracefully as a terran whale in Earth's Pacific Ocean. The Captain's Yacht flew around the Enterprise, using the massive ship as cover, appearing at random intervals and harassing the structure's defenses.

"Commander Meps," Tuvok said, "Engage attack pattern omega three. Target the shield generators. Siegel, follow me for a pass and target the disruptor banks. Benjamin, have you detected the Jumper Drive yet?"

Benjamin glanced at Parsons, who shook his head. "Not yet, Captain."

"Very well, continue searching," Tuvok ordered.

* * *

The ships broke off and Spike felt his stomach drop as Siegel followed one of them. Beams shot from both ships and hit an energy field just above the surface, causing green glowing waves to flow from where the beams hit. Green beams lanced from the surface, cutting at the areas between and around the two ships. Spike ducked when one beam passed just above their ship, then felt a little a little silly when he realized it wouldn't have made difference.

"So how's this work?" he asked, "Do we just keep shooting until one of us is dead?"

"Spike," the big man said, "I know it doesn't look like it, but this is actually very difficult and requires a great deal of concentration."

"Sorry, Mate," Spike said. He absently rubbed the small vile on the chain around his neck. With his other hand he felt around in his pocket for the ruby and the other item that he hoped would be his ace in the hole, even though he had no idea what it was supposed to do.

* * *

"Generators in range," Vasquez reported.

Meps smiled, "Fire at will, Ensign."

The phaser banks lit up, lancing deadly beams across the strange devices generating the shielding for the moon sized structure. The green hue of the energy reacting to the incoming attack lit up the area around where the phasers hit.

"Shields unaffected," Vasquez said as he hit the controls to launch the photon torpedoes. The dots of light hit the green energy barrier, creating twin explosions. The shields shimmered for longer this time, but still the structures remained intact.

"Still no effect," Vasquez said as the runabout passed the generators and Meps brought it around for another pass.

"Pay close attention, Ensign," she said, "I'm about to teach you something they don't teach at the Academy. Power up the deflector dish, then use it to fire a tachyon beam right at the center of the shields."

Vasquez did as ordered, even though he knew what she was suggesting wouldn't work. A tachyon beam could drain shields, but they couldn't fire any weapons while the beam was on or it would just drain that weapon's energy as well. That would create a feedback loop that would burn out the deflector dish at best, if not destroy the runabout. He was about to say so when Meps began speaking again.

"Here comes the tricky part," she said, "Your going to fire a torpedo at the spot where the beam is penetrating the shield. You need to time it so that it can get through the hole you've punched before it closes, but it can't collide with the beam or we're dead."

Vasquez nodded, "But then what? Even if I get it right, one torpedo won't be enough to destroy the generators."

Meps smirked, "We don't need to destroy them, just disable them. Leave that part up to me."

Vasquez let out a breath and set about the task. With the deflector dish powered, he fired the tachyon beam. It hit the shields, causing them to flicker at the point of impact. His read out told him a hole had begun to form. When he judged it large enough, he fired a single torpedo. The warhead went obediently to its target. Just before it crossed the beam, Vasquez cut power to the deflector dish. The hole in the shields immediately began to close, but the torpedo made it across the barrier. Just as it passed the threshold, Meps fired a phaser bank. It hit the torpedo, creating a shockwave that hit all of the generators, shutting down each in turn. Vasquez stared in awe as the shielding around the entire structure immediately dropped.

"A Photonic Burst," Meps said, answering his unspoken question, "Acts like an anti-matter powered electro magnetic pulse. Now let's destroy those generators. We won't have much time before they recover."

* * *

"Shields are down," Parsons said "I have the jumper drive on sensors."

"That was fast," Benjamin said over his shoulder.

Parsons smirked, "It's lit up like a solar flare. So much for them not being able to power it." Parsons stared at his readouts for another second, "I've never seen this kind of power consumption on anything short of a colony power grid."

"That's not good news," Benjamin said, "If they can power the drive, then we might be in a lot of trouble."

"Don't worry, Captain," Parsons said in a surprisingly confident tone, "We'll destroy the drive and-"

"I'm not talking about the drive," the young captain interrupted, "I'm talking about the power. If they can power that thing, it means we seriously underestimated their capabilities."

The engineer looked uncertain, "Should we abort?"

Benjamin thought a moment before deciding against it. "No. Spike is right. We have to do this now. Let's transport down and have a look. Benjamin to attack teams, Parsons and I are transporting to the location of the drive."

* * *

The sound of the transporter faded into the background and the area around them became visible. The thing Benjamin noticed first was the color. He didn't have any firsthand knowledge, but he had been told that borg technology caused their ships and structures to give off a greenish hue. Looking around the interior, he felt repulsed. Having grown up in one of the lushest places on Earth, he had come to feel that green represented fertility and life. This place had taken that wonderful color and twisted it into something harsh, devoid of being. It wasn't the green of the jungle near his home; rather it reminded Benjamin of rotting meat.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. He turned to a very nervous looking Parsons. "Do you think they're working?" he asked.

Benjamin looked at his arm, examining the device the Doctor had given them before departing the Enterprise. He shrugged, "I guess we won't know until we come across one of those things."

Parsons' wide eyes scanned the interior, "Do you see the drive anywhere?"

Benjamin had seen the half meter cylinder before he asked. It sat on a small pedestal with a thick cord coming out of one end. He grabbed Parsons' arm and pulled him over to it. They opened the control panel cover, revealing the single most complex control interface Starfleet had ever conceived of. Parsons let out a low whistle and Benjamin nodded his agreement. The display flashed a series of complex equations too quick to comprehend. As Parsons began typing in commands, Benjamin's gaze slid to where the cord hooked into the machine. As he examined it, his stomach dropped into his feet. He wasn't an engineer, but it looked exactly like the one that had hooked the drive into the Davenport.

"We need to do this as quickly as possible," he said.

"No problem," the other said, "Just let me concentrate. Do you think the others made it in?"

Benjamin took deep breath, "Let's hope so."

* * *

Spike looked around, trying to get his bearings. He had never been teleported before and it was disorienting. He saw Siegel standing next to him, checking his little device. He looked around again and took in his surroundings. It looked like the set of Alien, except everything seemed to glow faintly green. It smelled sterile, but not in the 'everything is so clean'sense. The place seemed to be simply devoid of life.

"Are you ready for this?" the big man asked

Spike smirked to himself, "Always."

"Good," Siegel said, pulling out a small scanning device like the one he had seen the Doctor use, "Our goal is the vinculum."

"Vin-what?" Spike asked.

Siegel smiled, "The _vinculum_. It's the thing that allows all of the systems and drones on a ship or in a unimatrix to work in tandem. Think of it as a central processing unit for the Borg. This way." He raised the sword in his right hand and pointed down a hallway. Spike followed as he moved quickly through the area, deciding not to ask what a 'central processing unit' was. They didn't have to go very far. After only a moment of walking, they came to a large, circular room with a narrow cylinder in it. The ends glowed with demonic energy so powerful, Spike could feel it in his chest as he neared the device. Siegel leaned his sword against a nearby control panel and started entering commands.

"Careful, Mate," Spike said, "This isn't what appears to be."

Siegel looked at him quizzically, picking up his little scanning device again and pointing it at the thing. "It reads as the vinculum. Subspace signals on Borg frequencies."

"I feel the energy, Mate," Spike answered, holding his hand a few inches from the metal, "It's demonic, and powerful."

Footsteps caught his attention and he turned to the sound. Siegel, apparently not having heard it, followed his eyes. Spike tensed and Siegel raised his sword. Both men stood prepared for whatever was coming down the hall. After another few seconds, the shadow lifted like a curtain off the faces of Rajda and another human Spike didn't recognize. Both men breathed a sigh of relief.

"You scared us half to death, Love," Spike said.

Rajda seemed surprised, "You heard us coming?"

He smirked, "Of course I diaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" A tendril of energy had come out of the device and was now griping him in immense, paralyzing pain. Though the agony, he forced his tearing eyes to open. Tentacles of demonic power had reached out and grabbed the other three. Desperately, he fought the pain and the blackness that was threatening to engulf him. In the end, he lost and fell into nothingness.

* * *

Benjamin stood watch over the only two exits in the room while Parsons continued to work on the Jumper Drive. He had been at it for several minutes, but Benjamin knew that he might be several more. The calculations he was imputing were light years beyond complex. The third time Parsons swore under his breath, however, made him take notice.

"Is something wrong," he asked.

"No. I mean yes," He exhaled sharply, "I've had to keep re-inputting calculations. Every time I get close to finished, something comes and erases one the early equations, so the whole thing comes unraveled. To be honest, it's pissing me off."

Frantic footsteps echoed down the hallway to Benjamin's left. He dropped into a ready stance and waited for his attackers. Tuvok and Torik came running into the room.

"They are right behind us," Torik said.

"Correction," Tuvok replied, having stopped at the entryway, "They were right behind us." He stared down the hall, searching for any sign of their pursuers.

Benjamin asked the obvious question, "What happened?"

"I do not know," Tuvok answered, "But it would appear that the Doctor's device did not work as well as we had hoped."

Torik spoke up, "The creatures seemed to be forcing our path, though I do not know to what purpose."

"Umm," Parsons said, "This might be why."

All three men turned to see the drive emanating a faint green hue. As the watched it got brighter.

Benjamin wanted to yell _RUN._ He wanted to run himself. But before he could do either, a brilliant flash blinded him. There was an instant of searing pain, then nothingness.


	21. It's a Trap!

AN:I know it has been a while. Bare with me here, just a little longer. I really think you'll like this chapter.

* * *

The pain was excruciating. If he lived to be a thousand years old, he was certain he would never feel anything even one tenth as painful. His cells, his DNA, even the atoms themselves screamed in anguish, begging for the pain to stop. It saturated every part of him, and that was its weakness. The completeness of his suffering allowed him to look past, see beyond it. Summoning every part of his will, he pushed the thought, the essence of the pain to the back of his mind, where he could ignore it. It fought him at every step, like a beast of suffering trying to keep from being caged. He, however, repeated the old mantra his master had taught him; _The only thing that gives the pain power is my willingness to feel it. I am unwilling._

The pain raged at him, pushing harder at his control.

_The only thing that gives the pain power is my willingness to feel it. I am unwilling._

It fought still harder, increasing in intensity and power.

_The only thing that gives the pain power is my willingness to feel it. I am unwilling._

It tore at his consciousness, seeming to rip out chunks of his sanity with its intangible claws.

_The only thing that gives the pain power is my willingness to feel it. I am unwilling._

It let out another silent roar of pain, but this time, it was impotent, hollow.

_The only thing that gives the pain power is my willingness to feel it. I am unwilling._

Beaten, it receded into the depths of his mind. It was still there, but now he could safely ignore it. Other sensations began coming forward, retaking their places in his consciousness that the pain had forced them out of. Mentally, he embraced them as old friends.

His eyes were closed. That was probably for the better. He didn't imagine, with the kind of pain he had felt, that his body was in very good shape. His muscles were still locked tight, paralyzed by the agony of whatever had grabbed him. Slowly, starting at his neck, he began to relax and unlock them. He felt that his right hand held something. Not trusting his ability to open his eyes, he gripped it harder, trying to discern what it was. It felt long and round, like a cylinder, and heaver at one end. The rough texture dug into his skin. Something cool and metallic sat cross ways against his fist on the heavy end.

In a sudden flash of realization, he knew that it was a sword. Finally opening his eyes, he saw that he was wrapped in a tendril of green energy coming out of what he had thought was the vinculum. More out of instinct than anything else, he raised his sword arm, slicing through energy. He felt resistance as it went through, causing the tentacle to spark and flicker. It released him, withdrawing back into the device.

Siegel landed heavily. He looked up and saw Spike, Meps, and Vasquez caught in the same energy. As quickly as he could, he got to his feet and raised his sword with the intention of cutting the others free. Before the blade came down, all three of his companions disintegrated.

The device stopped glowing.

* * *

Riker sat on the bridge of the Enterprise, barking out orders to his crew. Just after the teams had transported over, the shields had gone up.

"How is that possible?" Riker asked, "I thought Meps and Vasquez destroyed the generators."

"They did, Sir," Ensign Donaldson, the junior ops officer answered, "These are a completely different set of shields."

Riker checked the panel in the arm of his chair, "How is it being generated?"

Donaldson looked over his console, "Uh, unkown, Sir. The power seems to be perfectly distributed across the surface of the main sphere. I can't find a point of origin."

The bridge rocked and sparks exploded from several consoles, causing the crew members at them to fall back.

"Direct hit," Kotor reported, "Shields down to eighty-nine percent."

"Keep looking," Riker ordered Donaldson, "Tenpenny, roll the ship. I want our strongest shield facing those disruptors, and right now that's our underbelly. Keep us between them and Worf."

"I'll do my best, Captain," the helmsman answered, "But that last part is kind of up to him."

"Dammit Lieutenant, just DO IT!" Riker barked.

"Doctor to the Captain," the comm. chirped.

Riker rolled his eyes, "We're a little busy up here, Doctor."

"I realize that, Captain. But I think I have something that will help."

* * *

The Doctor scanned the latest patient to enter sickbay, "Second degree plasma burns to the face and neck," he told Nurse Kwon, "He'll need surgery. Prep him"

He moved to a man with a mangled left arm. "What happened?" he asked.

The man seemed only able to moan in response. Another man, a crewman the Doctor didn't recognize, answered for him, "We were running down section twenty-two of deck fifteen when the bulkhead exploded. The roof collapsed and a support beam fell on his arm. I did my best to get him out as carefully as I could."

The Doctor looked to one of the other nurses, Ensign Anderson, "Prepare him for amputation. I'll clone a new arm and attach it later."

He stood to walk to his instrument trey, but a voice stopped him, "Is he going to be okay, Doc?"

The Doctor turned around. With a reassuring smile, he placed a hand on the young man's shoulder, "He'll be fine. When this is over, his biggest concern will be with getting used to his new arm." The crewman seemed to relax, so the Doctor turned back around and reached for a hypospray. As he did, something caught his eye. Not sure what it was, he scanned the area around his office door. A flutter of…_something_ moved just inside the doorway. He walked toward his office, visually scanning the area. The second time he saw it, he could have sworn it was the tale of someone's white robe. He moved to see fully into his office looking for who was in there. He stopped at the threshold and looked in.

No one was in his office.

As he stepped into the room, the ship rocked violently something was thrown from his desk. For some reason, it drew his attention. He picked it up and saw that it was wrapped in a piece of paper. The Doctor looked closer and saw that there was writing on it. He unwrapped the paper, revealing a small, clear stone. He read the words on the paper and immediately tapped his comm. badge.

"Doctor to the Captain," he said.

"We're a little busy up here, Doctor," came the response.

The Doctor sighed, "I realize that, Captain. But I think I have something that will help." The ship rumbled, as if in response.

"What do you have?" Riker asked.

"There was a stone left on my desk. It was wrapped in a note, written in what looks like the same handwriting as the others," the Doctor read from the note, "_'To the Reluctant Captain, this stone will enhance your weapons for a single shot. Use it wisely.'_"

Riker was silent for a time. The Doctor could almost see him sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge, stroking his beard in thought.

"I'm going to take a chance and guess that we need to load that stone into a torpedo," he finally said, "Get it to the torpedo launchers, Doctor."

"Yes Sir," the Doctor said, tapping his badge to close the channel. Stepping out of his office, he handed the stone to the crewman who had brought in the patient with the mangled arm, "Get this down to the torpedo launchers as quickly as possible, Crewman. Have them load it into a quantum torpedo."

The young man took the stone without hesitation. "Yes, Sir," he said before bolting out of sickbay.

"Let's just hope it's enough."

* * *

Siegel looked around, trying to regain his bearings. The disappearance of his companions was so sudden that it didn't have time to sink in. Mentally, Siegel walled himself off from the event. He had to find the real vinculum, or its equivalent at least.

Footsteps echoed down the hall Meps and Vasquez had come from. Turning to the sound, several pale, featureless creatures marched into the room. They moved with liquid grace, flowing like several parts to one body. Reacting on instinct, he raised his sword, cutting off limbs as they neared him.

And still they came.

He didn't allow any of them any further than swords reach of him.

And still they came.

Limbs and blood like fluid covered the floor.

And still they came.

No matter how many he cut down, more replaced them. They advanced and despite fighting with everything in him, he soon found himself against a wall.

* * *

"Umm," Parsons said, "This might be why."

All three men turned to see the drive emanating a faint green hue. As they watched it got brighter.

Tuvok threw himself into the hall just as the device flashed. Hands over his head, he waited several seconds to be sure that there wasn't going to be an explosion. When he was reasonably sure it was safe, he cautiously rose to his feet. Stepping slowly into the room, his eyes combed over the area. Torik, Benjamin, and Parsons were all gone. Tuvok quickly pulled his tricorder and scanned the room. No traces of any of them. There was a small bit of relief in knowing that. If they had been disintegrated, the tricorder would have picked up traces of their molecules in the air. The question then was if they hadn't been disintegrated, where had they been transported to?

A faint life sign appeared not far from him. He aimed the tricorder at it, trying to get a fix on the location. A maze of corridors lay before him. Even with the tricorder guiding him, it would still hours to navigate. He swept his instrument over the room again, searching for anything else that might help. Tuvok's keen vision saw it before the tricorder did and he moved quickly to it. In the wall, almost completely concealed by the grooved patterns, was a hatch just under a meter tall and wide.

His tricorder told him that on the other side of the door was a tunnel similar to a Jeffries tube. Curiously, the area appeared to be a vacuum. Tuvok ran his fingers over the edges and the face, trying to determine how it would open. He eventually found a piece of it that folded in to reveal a small handle, just big enough for him to get two fingers around. Securing his grip, he pulled. The door pulled inward with sudden force, almost taking his hand with it. Air rushed past Tuvok into the now exposed tunnel. After a few seconds, the pressure equalized and the air stilled.

Extending his left hand, Tuvok scanned the interior of the tunnel. The air was breathable, but even more important was that it led in the direction of the single life sign he had picked up. He slipped into the tunnel and moved as quickly as the cramped interior would allow. Within minutes, he began hearing a person's grunts of effort, along with what sounded like muffled metal scraping on metal. Soon after, he reached what appeared to be a junction of the tunnels that offered enough room to stand, if not fully erect. It appeared to be just underneath the source of the commotion. Checking his tricorder, he could see that the human life sign was indeed directly above him. He reached up and pulled what looked like a release handle for a hatch.

* * *

_If this is it,_ Siegel thought to himself, _I'm going down fighting._ That thought, cemented in his mind, pushed his arms to continue swinging the sword even though his own body felt heavier each time. A wide arc cut down four of the creatures. Several more moved to take their place, but he didn't give them the chance. His sword cut down several more, and heartened by his progress, Siegel stepped forward to regain some ground. He never got the chance. As his foot touched the ground, it fell away beneath him.

* * *

Tuvok was barely able to move aside before he was crushed by the large man falling through the hatch. Looking up, he saw more of the featureless creatures that had chased him and Torik earlier. Thinking quickly, he slammed the hatch shut and pushed the handle back into place. Logically, there would be a way to open the hatch from the other side, however, very little about this place seemed logical.

The figure at his feet moaned and rolled over onto his back. Breathing heavily, Siegel scooted so that he could sit with his back against one wall.

"Your timing…_huff huff_...is incredible," he said, "I…_huff huff_…don't think…_huff huff_…I would've lasted…_huff huff_…much longer."

"Can you stand?" Tuvok asked.

Siegel held up a finger as if to request a moment. Slowly, he pulled a hypospray from his belt and injected it into his neck. After a moment, his breathing slowed, though it hardly seemed relaxed.

"Synthetic adrenaline," Siegel answered Tuvok's unspoken question as he grabbed his sword and stood, "It degrades in my system more slowly than natural adrenaline, so it eases out the crash."

"We need to move," Tuvok said.

"Which way?" the big man asked.

Tuvok scanned the area with his tricorder. "I am not detecting any other life signs, but logic dictates that the control center would be somewhere near the center of this sphere, which would be that way," he pointed toward one of the tunnels. Siegel held out an arm, inviting him to lead the way.

* * *

"Crewman Charles to the Bridge," the comm chirped.

"Go ahead, Crewman," Riker answered.

"The stone has been loaded into a torpedo, Sir. It is ready to fire on your command."

Kotor spoke up, "I'm not seeing any openings, Captain."

"Confirmed," Donaldson said, "The shield has remained intact and completely stable since it went up. Our weapons are having no effect."

The ship shook violently, knocking several people off balance. Riker barely managed to hold his seat. "Are our weapons being absorbed?"

"No sir," Kotor answered, "It's like throwing pebbles at a brick wall. It's almost as though our weapons aren't even hitting the shield."

Riker sighed. They couldn't continue like this. The Enterprise was a powerful ship, but she wasn't invincible.

"Kotor," he barked, "Pick a spot on the shielding. I want you to fire that torpedo and I want everything we have to follow as close behind as possible."

"Yes, Sir," he said, typing commands into the tactical console, "Ready."

Riker said a single word, "Fire."

* * *

Spike wasn't sure exactly when he regained consciousness. He only just realized that he was awake. Trying to move, he realized his hands were bound out to the sides and his feet were stuck together below him, almost as though he had been crucified. He saw right away that it was not rope or even nails that held him in place, but tendrils of magick.

On his left, he saw Benjamin and Meps. The one he didn't know was on his right. They were coming around as well. Spike pulled against his restraints, but the instant he did, what felt like direct sunlight scorched his skin at his wrists. He gritted his teeth against the pain and pulled harder. He didn't move, but the pain intensified.

"Don't pull too hard, Spike," a hauntingly familiar voice said, "I wouldn't want you to turn to ash before I've had my fun."

Lights, almost blindingly bright, illuminated a raised platform. The first thing Spike saw was a cylindrical tank with an unconscious, naked woman. It was full of some kind of liquid and seemed just big enough to house its single occupant. She was rather shapely, if a bit older, with blond hair and what appeared to be metal implants in various parts of her body. Wires ran from the top of the cylinder and connected to the implants next to her right ear and above her left eye.

A figure moved out from behind the tank. From behind the lights, Spiked could only see a silhouette of someone in a dress. It walked slowly, seeming to savor the anticipation. As the figure stepped slowly into the light, the darkness pulled back like a curtain. First revealed was a forest green dress, then a wide belt cinching it at the waist, then a black shawl covering otherwise bare shoulders. Finally, as she stepped fully into the light, Spike looked at her face a gasped aloud.

"Spike," she said, "You don't look happy to see me. I've missed you all these years."

Spike, for the first time in many centuries, couldn't find his voice. Nothing could have prepared him for, once again, coming face to face with Willow Rosenberg.

* * *

AN:Did you get chills? Probably not. Please let me know what you think. This story is very close to the end. I really do appreciate all of the reviews so far.


	22. Pain

A/N: I know it has been a while (more than a year) but here it is. There will only be two or three more chapters after this. So for those of you who have stuck with me thus far, thank you.

* * *

"Willow. No, it can't be," Spike whispered in shock. It made no sense. Willow was the one who had sent him on this crazy mission in the first place. She had given the prophecy. Why would she do this? How could she be the 'Great Evil'?

She reached out and stroked his face tenderly. "By the Goddess," she said, "The years have been good to you, haven't they?"

Slowly, deliberately, she traced a finger down his chest, across his stomach, and to the top of his jeans. Rubbing the hem near the button, Willow looked directly into Spike's eyes and smiled in a way that caused his stomach to drop. He knew that smile. It was one he had worn many times in the past. It was a smile that said _I have you exactly where I want you, to do with as I please, and there isn't a thing you can do about it._

"You must realize," came a voice from his left, "That you cannot win. Even if this assault fails, Captain Riker has already sent a message to Starfleet Command requesting backup."

As Willow moved away from him, Spike leaned out to see who had spoken. Hidden on the other side of Benjamin, where Spike couldn't see him before, was that pointy eared pansy, Torik.

"Oh," Willow cooed as she strolled over to him, her clicking footfalls coming slowly, deliberately, "I know that he _tried_ to send out a distress call. But I blocked it. Can't have the almighty Federation coming in to spoil my fun. At least not yet."

"It won't work," Benjamin said suddenly.

Willow tilted her head slightly, "What won't work?"

"The Jumper Drive," he answered, "You need the power source and you don't have it. Without that, it might as well be a piece of the bulkhead."

Willow's laughter, a light, haunting sound, echoed throughout the chamber, "My dear boy. Do you really think I would have gone to all of this trouble if I couldn't get my hands on the power source. It's true that I would have preferred to grab it on your first visit, but my little drones aren't exactly the smartest."

"The power source is on Earth," he said loudly, but Spike heard the hint of desperation in his voice.

Willow laughed again, setting Spike's nerves on edge. "Admiral," she said over her shoulder, into the darkness, "Why don't you come out here and show the young captain just how wrong he is."

Slowly, another figure stepped out of the darkness. Spike's unbeating heart leaped into his throat when he realized that he recognized the red on black with a gold stripe. As light washed over the face, Spike realized that he didn't know it.

Benjamin did. His surprised gasp broke the cold, dead silence.

The admiral, an old man with a hunched spine, spoke in a voice like chalk on a black bored.

"My Boy, I am proud you," he said, "You have performed perfectly."

Benjamin's face had gone white. His head drooped slowly and Spike could see a single tear make it's way down his face. Willow's laughter rang out again, seeming to mock Benjamin's obvious pain.

"Osborne here has been quite helpful," she said, "I thought that I had lost the power source when you managed to escape with it the first time. But then you gave it the Admiral here. With it in his possession, all he had to do was commandeer a shuttle and bring it to me."

Quietly, his voice shaking, Benjamin asked, "How could you?"

"Don't feel too bad, My Boy," The Admiral said in a kind, fatherly tone, "The Admiral Jared Osborne you know has been dead for some time."

The one Spike didn't know, the one on his right, groaned as he came around. Willow turned at the sound. She moved in that same, slow, purposeful gait toward the young man. As she reached him, he started to pull away, but she reached up and ran her fingers through his thick, black hair.

"My, but aren't you a handsome one," Willow said in a low, throaty voice, "What's your name, Sweetheart?"

The young man took a deep breath before answering, "Vasquez, Armand, Ensign, Starfleet Service Number GG-756-821."

Willow smiled indulgently as he spoke in a voice devoid of emotion. With one hand, she cradled the back of his neck, and with the other, she stroked his chest.

"Come now, Armand," she said, "I think we can be a little less formal. I want us all to be _very_ good friends."

The young man's eyes winced shut as Willow's hand moved below his belt line. "Vasquez, Armand," he repeated, "Ensign, Starfleet Service Number GG-756-821."

As he watched her tease the young ensign, Spike realized that something about her behavior didn't sit right with him. He had heard about her going dark while he was in Africa, but this too far out of character. It was almost as if...

_It isn't Willow._

Whatever this was, this wasn't Willow. She had never been the overt seductress, even when she was dark. She had ignored the only woman in their group and had instead focused on exclusively on the men. Even if she had started to enjoy things the less fair sex could offer, she wouldn't have sworn off women.

He just had to somehow get to his pocket.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Fire." Riker commanded.

Kotor hit the launch control for the modified quantum torpedo. On the view screen, a point of bluish light sailed gracefully into space. When it had traversed about half of the distance, he tapped in a series of commands, launching several more torpedoes behind the first and readying the phaser banks. Tension hung thick in the air as the entire bridge crew held their collective breath. The journey seemed to take an eternity.

As it neared the sphere, the shields glowed in response, spreading sickly green light over the surface. Finally, the torpedo exploded in a wave of purple light, burning away the greenish glow as it expanded across the shields. The other torpedoes hit the sphere in succession, destroying huge chunks of the surface. Kotor fired the phasers.

"Well, that worked," Riker said with just a hint of surprise, "Lets find our people and get them out of there."

A strange energy drain suddenly hit the shields, causing Kotor's panel to flash a warning.

"Sir," he said, "Shields are down to eighty-nine percent."

"Did we take a hit?" Riker asked, turning to look at him.

Kotor checked his readouts, "Not that I can tell, Sir-" his panel flashed again, "There is is again. Shields down to seventy-eight percent."

"I believe I know what that is, Sir," Donaldson said from his ops station, "Those look like the transporter signatures we encountered in the Neutral Zone. But their power seems to have been boosted significantly. I believe the shield modifications that Doctor Lazarus made are continuing to keep them out, but the extra power is draining our shields."

"Get me any extra power you can to the shields, Donaldson," the captain ordered, "We can't afford to lose our shields now. Kotor, concentrate on destroying that thing's weapons."

Kotor smiled to himself, "Yes, Sir."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Spike's mind raced as he tried to think of a way to get to the jewel in his pocket. He could barely move. Maybe he didn't need to hold it. Maybe if he just got her to hold it, he could say the magic words and use it on her. He started struggling against his bonds again, stifling his cries of pain. Willow's attention turned once again to him. She strolled over to him in that same, slow, deliberate pace.

"Why Spike, whatever are you trying to accomplish?" she asked.

Spike's eyes flicked briefly down to his own pocket. Looking at her, he could tell that she had seen it.

"Nothing," he said weakly, avoiding her eyes.

A lithe hand reached quickly into his pocket, pulling out the silver bracketed ruby.

"What kind of trick do you have up your sleeve, Spike?" she asked, eying the trinket in her hand with curiosity.

Spike smirked, "You tell me, Love. Terminus praestig-" his words were cut off as an explosion rocked the room around him. It knocked Willow and the Admiral from their feet, causing her to drop the jewel. It skittered across the floor and into the darkness. The binds holding Spike and his allies flickered but still held him in place.

Willow pushed herself into a sitting position and raised a hand skyward, "Come, my children!" she shouted, "Come and destroy the invaders!"

The woman in the tank behind Willow suddenly opened her eyes. Otherworldly power glowed behind them. That same power crawled out of implants and climbed the wires to the top of the tank. Featureless, pale naked creatures flooded the room so rapidly that Spike thought there must be a faucet pouring them out somewhere. As they did, Willow gestured and several of them disappeared. Willow's eyes widened and a look of confused concerned passed over her face. More creatures made their way into the room. She gestured and they disappeared as well. Again, she seemed confused, but also fearful.

"Something is wrong," she whispered, her words inaudible to everyone but Spike.

As more creatures flooded into the room, a gigantic figure rushed in, screaming like demon. Five of the creatures were scythed in half by a flashing blade. Even more were flung aside by another figure, kicking and punching his way through the crowd. As each creature fell, two more appeared to take their place, but the two kept fighting and making headway through the crowd. Spike realized at that the larger figure had to be Siegel.

"Oi, Big Man," Spike called out, "Come get me out of this thing."

Siegel looked to Spike and began cutting his way over to him. The other man, Spike couldn't see who it was, remained where he was, continuing the fight with the flood of sickly pale skin. Spike kept one eye on Willow, who seemed to be focused on whatever had distracted her earlier.

Siegel's blade flashed as he swung it above Spike's wrists. Released, the vampire dropped to the floor. Siegel immediately turned to fend off an attack from several of the creatures that were advancing on him.

"Free the others," Spike yelled, "I have to find something." He then dove into the darkness, hoping to find a needle in a haystack.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The beast roared soundlessly at it's new found freedom. Benjamin's temper, never totally buried, but never completely boundless, now burned it's way through his veins. A deafening cacophony, like the war cry of a thousand feral predators thundered in his ears. Through a sheet of red, past the chaos, his eyes focused on the target of his rage.

The soulless monster masquerading as Admiral Osborne stood calmly among the flood of creatures, completely oblivious to death staring at him from across the room. A flash across his vision, and suddenly he was free. Oblivious to the soreness in his muscles from the position he had been in, he ran for his target. Countless pale hands reached out to him, but he avoided them all. His anger screamed for release, demanding blood.

Osborne turned, but too late. Or so Benjamin thought. Suddenly, the older man's hand was around his neck and squeezing painfully. Benjamin desperately brought his foot up and kicked under the arm that held him hard enough to break a few ribs. Or so he thought. Osborne grabbed his heel with his free hand and, almost nonchalantly, turned Benjamin's foot one hundred eighty degrees. The pain of having tendons torn, joints popped, and bones broken, shot up his leg and into the core of his being, forcing a cry from his mouth. Like a splash of cold water to the face, it woke him to the situation that his temper had gotten him into.

He did his best to push it aside. He knew that if he gave into the pain now, he wouldn't survive. Osborne reached out and, with a thumb, broke Benjamin's collarbone. He felt the _snap_ reverberate into his core, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was already experiencing in his leg. Osborn reached out again. Benjamin tried to grab his hand, but with a flick of his wrist, Osborne grabbed his forearm. In one fluid motion, he pulled Benjamin's arm out straight and bent it at the elbow in the wrong direction. Without pausing, Osborne pressed his thumb against the young captain's ribs. Benjamin felt the crack, forcing what felt like a thousand knives into his lungs. He wasn't sure how much longer he could survive this. The pain was threatening to take away his consciousness. He knew that if that happened, he would never reawaken.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Siegel watched Benjamin run headlong into the crowd of cyborgs, but before he could follow, he was surrounded again. He had already freed Spike, Commander Meps, and Ensign Vasquez, so he swung his sword to clear a path to Lieutenant Torik. He struck the wall just above the vulcan's head, cutting the glowing green tentacles that held him in place. Immediately, he was up on his feet, ready to fight.

Siegel heard a cry of pain. He turned to see a man in an admiral's uniform holding Benjamin by the throat. Throwing all of his might behind his swings, he began fight his way toward his old friend. He only hoped he wasn't too late.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Benjamin felt another rib break, and breathing became even more difficult. He knew that he couldn't take muck more. Eventually the pain would overwhelm him. Osborne reached out again, but before he could find his mark, a sharpened steel spike exploded from his chest. Through his fuzzy vision, Benjamin could just barely make out a gigantic figure behind Osborne, like the Grim Reaper standing in judgment. Benjamin dropped, and as Osborne was torn in half, one thought rang through Benjamin's mind, _I'm next_.


End file.
